To Truly Live
by iKingBearII
Summary: There is a difference between living and surviving and Harry Potter wants to truly live.
1. Surviving

One week. In one week, Harry Potter had to make his decision. Harry was a lot of things: The Boy-Who-Lived, a twenty year old veteran, slayer of the Dark Lord, and Probationary Auror. As he slumped into a chair in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, the home he inherited upon the death of his godfather, he added another thing to the list: bloody tired. Not just in the physical sense, although he could definitely use some rest. He raised his eyes, without batting an eye when a rather old house elf appeared at his side, firewhisky in hand. "Thank you, Kreacher. You're a lifesaver," Harry commended him. Filling a rather elegant glass that Kreacher had brought with him, Harry pondered his decision.

_One week is not a long time._ Three years ago, Harry would have killed for this one week to be over. Now he wasn't so sure. He'd always wanted to be an Auror, and in a week, his probation was up. It would be then that he would make his choice: sign the contract and become an official Auror, or decline and seek a job elsewhere. In truth, he was well off and didn't really need a career, but he could only imagine how boring his life would be if he didn't decide on a career. He also suspected his parents would give him a thick ear when he reached the next great adventure if he didn't make something of his life.

He was well qualified for anything. Hogwarts may have been the greatest wizarding school in Europe for a very long time, but in the last few decades standards had been declining. It was this factor, plus the paranoia of his godfather, who had almost been sentenced to Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, that had led to him being taught at home by the scholarly Remus Lupin, a good friend of his godfather.

This decision likely saved his life, as Remus Lupin was a very qualified man and, if not for the fact that he was a werewolf, would have been a teacher. Harry's education had started much earlier, and been much more pragmatic, than a Hogwarts education. With his diligent work ethic, Harry had been up to OWL standard by the time he was thirteen, and had taken his OWLs at the Ministry. Three years later, Harry had taken his NEWTS, and it was a good thing, as the Ministry had virtually collapsed shortly after.

Remus had focused Harry's education around things that would help him survive. As a result, Harry knew virtually nothing about Herbology, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and History of Magic, the latter one being much to Remus' consternation.

On the other hand, Harry excelled at what he needed. He was far beyond average in Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, and Arithmancy. He was skilled in Potions and Ancient Runes, and average in his other classes. Hogwarts opened at the age of eleven because puberty was typically when those with magical cores began to develop and grow, and therefore that is when it was prudent to begin magical lessons. Harry, however, had learned the theory of magic of the core classes beforehand. While most of the magical children were enjoying their last few years before Hogwarts, Harry had a strict study schedule— though Sirius, ever the Marauder, had insisted on some free fun time.

All of these factors led Harry to one conclusion: he could do pretty much anything that interested him. The problem was deciding what did interest him. With a sigh, he took a swill of firewhisky, at this point being used to the bitter burning of it. _Sirius would be proud, _Harry mused, his eyes now traveling over the far wall, viewing a portrait of Sirius, Remus, and him. He must have been about twelve in that picture. With a frown, Harry refilled his glass.

The picture of Sirius brought a memory to mind, though, and for once, Harry didn't curse his subconscious.

"_So, Harry, you passed your OWLs," Sirius paused, shooting a glance at Remus. "What do you think you'll do? After the war, I mean."_

_This question caught Harry off guard. After learning his destiny, foretold by a literal prophecy, had been to kill a Dark Lord or be killed by him, he hadn't really considered the future. Harry frowned, "What do you want to do, Sirius?"_

_Sirius smiled, as if expecting the deflection, "I think I want to travel, Harry. The world is large, and beautiful. I'm young and handsome," he paused again to glare at Remus as the man tried to hastily silence his snigger, "Why waste this godly physique sitting in a boring office?"_

_With a wry smirk Harry countered, "Whatever you say, Sirius. Honestly though, I'm not sure what I want to do. I've not thought much besides for fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Maybe I could be an Auror; that sounds fun."_

"_So you can be stuck in the office while I'm off having fun. Sounds fine to me, kid," Sirius teased._

"_I must say, that is an admirable attitude, Harry. The Ministry and Auror Office could certainly use someone with your talents, especially once the war is over," Remus jumped in with the kind of pride that only a teacher felt._

_Harry smiled. He may not have his mother or father, but he couldn't say he didn't have a family._

Harry's frown deepened. Sirius had been killed in the middle of the war and Remus had fallen at the Battle of Little Hangleton on his seventeenth birthday. The pain was still sharp, though Harry wasn't as much of a wreck as he was before.

Harry had been aimless after their deaths. After a year, he had decided to join up with the Aurors, and after the initial year in the Auror Academy, worked as a probationary Auror. He had been shadowing several different Senior Aurors from different departments and learning the trade.

Harry couldn't help but feel like going through all that training and then declining the job was a betrayal of everyone who had helped him get there. Sirius had worked tirelessly to find contacts in the Ministry to spread his name around, while Remus had upped the ante on his training and had researched and implemented a regimen not dissimilar to the Auror Academy one.

Was it wrong to be tired of fighting? Harry wasn't a natural-born killer, but he was a killer. The first time he had taken a life it had not been clean, and Harry was traumatized for a month afterwards. He had thereafter hardened himself, but he never lost his humanity as many people in that time had. There was always pain after he had been forced to kill. How many orphans had he created? He didn't know, and still the question sometimes haunted him at night.

No, Harry was done with bloodshed. He had killed the Dark Lord himself. He had seen the results of a Death Eater attack on Godric's Hollow, and it was there that he had found the corpse of his first and only girlfriend, barely recognizable. Harry had seen more action, pain, and misery than most of the Senior Aurors in the Office. He'd done his part.

Harry hadn't fought Voldemort because of some ambiguous, Macbeth styled prophecy. Remus had insisted he learn some classic muggle literature, and Macbeth had been one of Harry's favorites, at least in the irony of how similar to his own situation it was. Harry had fought because he believed, with every fibre of his being, that it was right; he fought because he wanted people to be able to leave their homes without fearing for their lives; he fought because he never wanted anyone else to grow up without their parents like he had.

As Harry decided that he wasn't going to be an Auror, he felt as if a massive weight had been removed from his shoulders. He had known all along that it wasn't right for him but he had just stubbornly refused it. His eyes glared accusingly at the picture of Sirius. _The old dog's probably laughing at me._

With an eager swig of his firewhisky, Harry began brainstorming for a new career. That weight suddenly replaced itself, as he realized that he really didn't know anyone outside of the Auror Office or Ministry itself. He thought about some kind of Ministry career, but Harry had never been a square, and he suspected that if he did become one, he'd never hear the end of it from Sirius when he did pass on.

Harry tried to think of anything Sirius had mentioned about his plans after Hogwarts. Unfortunately, Sirius had simply joined the Order of the Phoenix, deciding that he didn't necessarily need a career when there was a war on. This had resulted in the war ending and Sirius not having any job, though he did have the Black fortune, so he never did need one. He'd spent the rest of his life looking after Harry and dying for him. As the familiar guilt rose within Harry, he did the typical thing: pushed it down and took another long drink from his glass.

A brilliant thought came to mind, despite — or perhaps because of — the pleasant buzz he was now feeling: Remus! Remus has been a scholarly man and had been an encyclopedia. He had informed Harry about many of the careers and ways of going about them. Remus himself had always wanted to be an educator, but he never got the opportunity as he was a werewolf and it would be impossible to hide that fact in a school. Harry knew he would be an awful teacher simply because he wasn't interested in it. Not unlike his godfather, Harry wanted adventure.

The only thing he had done besides for Auror training recently that was exciting was some Inter-Ministry Quidditch. He had found, much to his delight, that he was a talented Seeker and had quickly endeared himself to a few professional selectors. He'd declined all of the offers though: he had been firmly interested in duty and he didn't want the fame that came with being a professional Quidditch player. However, Harry found his priorities changing, and he knew that his fame probably couldn't grow any more than it already had— his name was in the Prophet all the time, often with unsavoury things. With the Quidditch season ending soon, teams may still be recruiting, so Harry decided to keep his options open on that.

He did have a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot as the Head of House Potter, but he knew that politics wasn't in it for him. He'd have to put an ad out in the Daily Prophet to hire someone to represent him sooner or later. This would give him a vote on the Wizengamot without actually having to attend sessions.

Deciding to take another approach, Harry thought about his talents. He was very skilled in Defence, Charms, Transfiguration and Arithmancy. Unfortunately, he was drawing blanks. Blaming the alcohol, he finished his drink and headed up to bed. He had a week to think about it.

* * *

Early the next morning, Harry Potter entered the Auror Office, hoping for a light day so he could continue his planning. Unfortunately, fate intervened, and as soon as he entered the office, Senior Auror Dance called him over. "Potter. Today you're with me, it's a good thing you got here, I was about to leave without you. We just got a tip about a few illegal potion ring's headquarters, we don't have time to dally. Are you ready?"

Harry stiffened. He'd been on a few raids such as this, and the dumb bastards usually never had a mite of common sense. It could, and often did, go tits up very easily. Nevertheless, Harry was technically an Auror, if not for much longer, "Yes, sir."

Dance nodded, "Good man. Senior Auror Scott will be with us. His shadow appears to be late. We have to go."

Harry groaned internally. John Dance was a dedicated Auror and had fought bravely in the war, but he was also very obsessive. He reminded him of a more tame Alastor Moody. It was a shame that Moody perished in the war. Moody had been responsible for some of Harry's combat training.

Harry had to practically sprint to keep up with Dance and Scott as they rushed through the Ministry to the Apparition point. As they reached it, however, Dance stopped, "Potter, this deal is going down in an old ramshackle barn near Ottery St. Catchpole. I want you to get to high ground. For all the cleverness these bastards have, they almost never look up."

Harry nodded again, allowing the fear to build up in him and sharpen his senses as Dance grabbed him and he was Side-Along Apparated to the barn. Using a silently casted Ascendio, Harry landed neatly on a rafter, eyes widening as it shook precariously. After waiting a moment to ensure it was stable, Harry disillusioned himself. The charm was so powerful he couldn't even see himself, which was not dissimilar to when he wore his Invisibility Cloak. From his vantage point he saw Auror Dance getting into position. Auror Scott left through the main entrance, intending to catch any who tried to run out of the front.

Looking around with a trained eye, Harry scanned the barn. It was cluttered with old muggle tools and some crates with a dirt floor. Before he could continue his perusal, he felt his protean charmed galleon heat up in his pocket. Withdrawing it, he saw small text on the other side, reading: _In position, Wait for my signal._

Almost as soon as he'd read that, he heard several loud cracks as a group of individuals appeared. Three muscular men circled a thin, wiry man. The thin one pulled a small item out of his pocket and, with a tap of his wand, enlarged it. Harry recognized a potion crate with a grim acceptance. This was definitely an illegal trade-off, and Harry knew the protocol.

Another set of cracks sounded through the barn, and four more men appeared. Their leader was far taller and more muscular than the potions dealer. Harry's eyes widened in shock and, after a moment, eager fury. The leader was Walden Macnair, the final death eater left uncaptured. This followed by another twinge of fear. _Why is the last remaining death eater buying some potions?_

He tightened his grip on his wand, a grim smile settling over his face. After all this time, he felt that closure was upon them. "You know the deal, Macnair. You hand over the galleons, I make sure it's legitimate, and then I hand over the potions. Got it?" the potions dealer asserted, and Harry had to credit him for his bravery; Macnair was far more intimidating than the little man.

"Yeah, alright," Macnair confirmed reluctantly. As they were speaking, Harry felt the emergency Alarm charmed coin heat. It was clear that Dance or Scott had decided Macnair was enough to call in all available Aurors.

A deafening chorus of Apparition snaps sounded, and Harry knew the barn was surrounded. _Just as well_, he thought as he felt the Anti-Portkey and Anti-Apparition wards set. Scott's voice rang out, "Drop your wands and lay face down; the barn is surrounded."

Harry watched from his vantage point as every criminal in the barn attempted to Apparate. After realizing there was no hope, all hell broke loose. Macnair's band broke towards the back wall of the barn, and Macnair shot a Blasting Curse at the wall. Harry's quick reflexes allowed him to raise a shield over the wall, deflecting the Curse back at the Death Eater. At its deflected angle, however, it hit the floor behind him, throwing him and his lucky friends forward. The unlucky ones, two of them, had been too close and were torn apart by the force of the explosion. Macnair was strong, and his Curse had meant to tear down the wall.

Harry was horrified, but quick reflexes had been drilled into him during the War and in the Academy. He quickly shot off several stunners, incapacitating the discombobulated Macnair and his last accomplices. The rest of the Aurors had done good work on the Potioneer and his allies. Harry jumped from the rafter, using a Slowing Charm on himself to soften his fall. He surveyed the scene with a detached manner. Two of Macnair's allies where virtually unrecognizable, such was the force of the blasting curse. Blood and gore surrounded their remains. It was a gruesome sight, however, and Harry knew his subconscious would not let him forget it soon. Macnair had been thrown forward and had landed in an awkward angle while his last remaining ally had been flung into the far wall with immense force. Harry wasn't even sure he was alive, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

Sounds slowly came back to him, and he heard shuffling around him as the Aurors started rounding up the arrested. He turned numbly as Auror Dance laughed, clapping him on the back. Harry wanted to say he could never understand how men like him could enjoy that, but he did. There's a power in battle, in the adrenaline flowing through your veins. A primordial beast within him was released every time he killed. It was a beast that delighted in the power it held over life and death itself. Harry shook his head in disgust and allowed the Senior Aurors to wrap up their business.

The last death eater had been caught, and Harry knew there would be much celebration. It was likely that Head Auror Robards would open up a tab at their local pub. An auspicious day; it was a shame that all Harry wanted to do was vomit.

Yet again he had been made to murder, to take another life. He wondered if it would ever end.

* * *

Harry's prediction had been right and, after much celebration at the Office, Robards opened up a tab at The Silver Hand, a local pub near the Ministry. Most everyone had cleared out, but Harry remained at his desk, staring at a sheet of paperwork he knew he'd have to get around to. He hated that he loved battle. The thrill of it sometimes consumed him. This recent one wasn't even a real battle, that he knew, but it was still enough to get his blood roaring. Seeing the blood and gore brought back memories he'd fought hard to suppress.

Before he could continue down that road, he heard a snapping. Startled, Harry looked up to see Head Auror Gawain Robards staring down at him with an understanding look. "You hate it, don't you, Potter?"

"Hate what, exactly, sir?" Harry queried, bemused.

"Fighting. I reckon you've seen enough of it in your lifetime, eh? Understandable, of course. Potter, I've been an Auror for a long time. I know what you're feeling, don't think I haven't felt it."

Harry was surprised. Robards was a very quiet man, though when he spoke everyone listened. For him to initiate a personal conversation was rare. It felt immensely good to have someone who understood him. "Sometimes I feel like I'm still in the bloody War, sir. I'm tired."

Robards nodded, "I figured you would be. Well, Potter, as I'm sure you well know, your probation ends in less than a week. Then you're free. Unfortunately, I didn't just come to sympathize. Minister Weasley is delighted with the capture of the last death eater, and is calling an immediate press conference. He wants you to do the opening briefing."

Harry couldn't stop himself from groaning. Minister Weasley was a good man and his family had been firmly on the side of the light. After the war, there was virtually no other surviving Department Head competent enough to become Minister for Magic, so Arthur Weasley had practically inherited the position. He had proven to be surprisingly skilled at the job, and had been a very progressive leader.

Robards chuckled, "Yeah, I know. I hate them too, but he wants you."

Harry stood angrily, "Yeah, because of my name. Hell, I could've just done a damned tap dance while the rest of the Aurors caught him and he'd still want me to do the briefing."

Robards chuckle had turned into a laugh and after a few seconds he spoke, "Now that I'd pay money to see. Anyways, the conference is in half an hour, Weasley wants to see you in his office in fifteen."

Harry just nodded.

* * *

Arthur Weasley was a very energetic man despite being the Minister of Magic. Harry had always assumed that the job sucked the life out of people. As he entered the surprisingly plain office, the Minister had eagerly jumped from his seat.

"Mr. Potter, it's wonderful to see you! Wonderful work today, you've finally closed the war. That dark chapter is finally behind us," Arthur was in serious danger of rambling.

Harry raised his hand modestly, "It was nothing, sir. The other Aurors did most of the work."

Arthur's smile widened, "Nonsense, Harry. Both your Team Leader and the Head Auror described your work today in glowing terms. I appreciate the modesty, but don't be afraid of taking credit where it's due. Oh, and please call me Arthur when we're not on official business. Anyways, son, are you ready to head to the briefing?"

Harry wished he had the man's energy, "Of course, Arthur," he lied.

Arthur grinned knowingly.

Ten minutes later, Arthur and Harry were in a small chamber behind the Wizengamot, listening to the proceedings. The Chief Warlock, Amos Diggory, was introducing Arthur.

"...And may I now welcome our Minister of Magic to give a few words. I'm sure we'd all like to know what this emergency briefing will be about."

Arthur nodded to Harry, "That's my cue. Be ready for when I call you."

Harry looked like a man heading to the gallows, but Arthur ignored it as he opened the door. Harry faintly heard polite clapping as the Minister began his introductions, but he ignored it. Harry decided his free time now would be best spent considering his career options.

Harry decided to think about what he wanted in terms of excitement and adventure. Did he want to travel, and if so, what kind of career would possibly provide that? Harry knew that professional Quidditch players traveled often, but he couldn't really think of many others. Magizoologists tended to travel a lot, but Harry had no experience there. He knew that curse breakers tended to travel all over the world as well, and that sounded extremely exciting. However, Harry wasn't certain that Gringotts would hire him after the events of the War.

Before he could think of an answer to his own question, he heard his name and silence, so he assumed it was his cue. He pushed the door open and walked into the chamber, immediately taking in the neat and orderly legislative body, many faces showing anticipation. As Harry approached the stage, he realized he had a problem: he had no idea how much the Minister had told them, and had no idea where to begin his speech.

Mercifully, the Minister seemed to expect this, and whispered in his ear as he passed him, "You get to make the announcement and explain the situation. Cheers."

Harry plastered on his cheerful Boy-Who-Lived face. This face had saved him an incredibly amount of awkwardness after the war. He had been expected to attend several Ministry events, and he was a practiced, if somewhat reluctant, hand at it.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot. Today at approximately one o'clock, myself and a team of Aurors were tipped off about an illegal potions deal. It is my pleasure to announce to you all that one of the captured individuals involved in this activity was Walden Macnair, the last remaining death eater to have evaded justice," Harry paused as a shocked silence enveloped the room. After a second or two, pandemonium broke loose. There were shouts of questions and massive applause. Harry also couldn't ignore the snapping of the magic cameras. He knew this would be in the papers with his name all over it.

After around ten seconds, he raised one hand to silence the room, "There were two fatalities and two injuries on their side, while no Ministry staff were hurt. I must confess, a massive weight has been lifted off my chest. The War is now over, and that dark chapter of our history is now closed," Harry paused to grin at Arthur. "I'm sure you all know how pleased I am at this result, and I am sure you all feel the same. Many thanks to everyone involved."

He lowered his hands and stepped back, allowing Arthur to step forward again. Harry simply zoned out as Arthur began to pontificate— no matter how normal the guy was, he was still a politician. It had to run in their blood or something.

He really did feel like a weight was lifted from his chest. The war was over.

* * *

Harry once again sat at the table at Grimmauld Place nursing a glass of red wine this time. Sirius had expanded his drinking tastes in his later years and Harry had the benefit of a full cellar of different drinks.

After the press conference, Arthur had invited him to the Ministry ball that would be held to celebrate true ending of the War. Harry didn't really want to go, but it was bound to be more fun than anything else he'd do this week, and Harry figured he'd get some free drinks while he was there. There were also bound to be many beautiful women around the place. Harry knew Sirius would be sorely disappointed in Harry's love life, or lack thereof.

Harry leaned back in his chair. He decided to accept Arthur on his offer to attend the ball. Harry despised these events, as reporters would try and crowd him, but he was tired of being alone. Ever since the war, Harry hadn't truly had human company. He had his fellow Aurors, of course, but they could never understand. They weren't there in the final days, most of them. The Aurors that had been had either died or retired. His curse, that of destiny, had burned him out.

He removed his wand from his pocket, placing it on the table in front of him. He studied the bumps and holes of the long, fifteen-inch wand, something he had done many times before. He was sick of destiny, sick of merely surviving.

_There is a difference between living and surviving_, he mused, _and I want to live._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Alright, so, I feel like I have a bit of explaining to do here. I said (on my bio) that I wouldn't start posting until I completed the story, but this is a bit of a different case here. I wanted a bit of interaction, because I've left a few paths open and drafted different plot structures based on what career path Harry goes down. For example, Professional Quidditch (which isn't a surprise, I was pretty blatant about that being one of the options.)

I have two further chapters completed for Quidditch Harry if I go down that route. Alternatively, I have a further chapter written for my second chosen career (which is more unique, and I did mention it, but you'd have to have read carefully.) Whichever one I don't point I will just reconfigure to be it's own story, as I do like both of those ideas.

Anyways, the reason I posted this is because I wanted to ask: If you like this chapter, what kind of career would you be interested in seeing Harry pursue? Auror is obviously off the books, though I may write an Auror Harry story later.

Regardless of what I pick, the chapters probably won't start coming out for a a week or two, as I completely intend to finish the story I decide to stick with before posting. That being said, I have a lot of free time on my hands now and can work several hours a day on my story.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


	2. First Steps

_The room was exactly the same_, Harry mused as he passed the Auror Headquarters sign, _but I suppose I'll never see it again_. His decision was easy to make, and he knew it needed to be made, but that didn't make it a happy one. He did have some friends here he'd likely never see again. He walked through the room, a series of cubicles, ignoring the clippings of Dark wizards and other investigative notices. The talk and laughter of the room buzzed around him but he ignored it with a purpose.

Stopping at the Head Auror office, Harry knocked. After a second, he heard Robards' gruff voice bidding him enter. With mounting trepidation, Harry pulled the door open and closed it behind him, making his way in front of the desk. Robards smiled at him, handing him a paper of discharge.

"Well, Potter, it's an end of an era, eh?"

Harry smiled, "It is, sir, and it's been an honour."

"Do you know what you're going to do?" Gawain sounded genuinely interested, and this put Harry at ease.

"Honestly, sir, what I should have done after the War."

Gawain laughed, "If anyone deserves it, it's you, lad. You're enormously talented, Harry; you don't mind if I call you Harry, do you?"

"Of course not, sir," Harry was pleased.

"You can call me Gawain then, Harry. It's a bit of a mouthful but, for some reason, I suspect it's easier than sir."

"Thank you, Gawain," a lump formed in Harry's throat and he suddenly found it hard to speak.

Gawain nodded knowingly, "Keep in touch."

Harry walked out, ignoring the feeling of finality. It was one he'd only felt a few times in his life, and he always hated it.

He pulled the door open to see Auror Dance on the other side. Dance smiled, "Hey there, Potter. Your probation is up, how does it feel?"

Harry realized that Dance probably had no idea he didn't take the job, "Oh, sir, I decided not to take the job. I'm officially unemployed."

Danced nodded, "We know, Harry. We all saw how miserable you were," he paused to turn Harry around wave his arm around the room. To Harry's shock, he saw everyone standing at attention, even Robards who was now standing outside his office.

"Thank you for your service, Harry Potter," Dance finished, and everyone in the room copied his statement. Harry couldn't speak. Dance shoved Harry out the door with a laugh, "Go get 'em, kid."

* * *

A film of smoke covered the room, though that did nothing to deter his vision. It did, however, give him cover, and Harry appreciated that. He didn't want to be seen right now. He raised his mug of firewhisky to his lips, surrendering to the searing burn followed by the numbness it provided.

His eyes scanned the room for threats before he even knew he was doing it. It was training, it was muscle memory, and it served a reminder that for most of his life he was just a warrior. Even now, unemployed, he still had his habits. He had picked a spot in the corner that allowed him easy perusal of the entire room. He wondered if his war would ever really end.

He wasn't even an Auror anymore. _I made the right choice, _he thought with absolute certainty. _Why does it feel so wrong?_

Throwing back his head, he took another generous portion of his drink. He was broken, and he knew it. Like everything else he'd known to be broken, it could be fixed. Sometimes you even had to break things further to fix them, though he certainly didn't want that.

No, he knew what he had to do next. He needed to get out and socialize. He couldn't take it all upon himself, no matter how much he might wish to. And he'd start with the Ministry Ball coming up. What better way to fix himself than to celebrate the War truly ending?

He stood, approaching the bar and wordlessly handing Ross, the bartender, a bag of galleons worth far more than he made in several months, probably a year. The kid worked hard, and Harry had a suspicion he wouldn't be back for a long time.

He needed to move on, and moping in a pub was not going to do it.

* * *

The Ministry had been hard at work since the War, Harry knew. Entering the formal halls located at the end of level one, he saw just how much. He had only been to these halls a few times after the Battle of Little Hangleton. While they celebrated the War's end then, he knew that it wasn't. Not until every Death Eater was caught.

_It is finally over._ These were not words that were unfamiliar; he had said them after Voldemort's death, and he had said them after they caught Macnair. It wasn't true the first time. Harry desperately hoped it was this time.

Harry realized he had just been standing still taking in the sights and, unsurprisingly, looking like an idiot. He started moving down the sleek black hall, taking in the golden statues and lavish decorations. Withdrawing an invite from his formal robes, he saw the ball was held in the main room. He had stopped at the door, and only now did he realize how much he didn't want to be here. Despite that realization he pushed the door open.

His senses were immediately overwhelmed. The ballroom was very large and there were many wizards and witches in attendance. Almost subconsciously he had begun moving towards the corner of the room. He didn't know many people and he needed to calm down and get a grip on his senses.

Finally arriving in a place of relative solitude, Harry practiced a meditation technique that Remus had shown him. It was simply a way to clear the mind and control yourself. It helped that Harry was an accomplished Occlumens. Slowly, the Boy-Who-Lived emerged. This is what they expected; what they wanted.

Now confident and in control, he performed another inspection of the hall. Most of the people here were simply gregarious partygoers. There were also ambitious Ministry workers and those duty-bound to go. Harry kept his senses open, listening for anything interesting.

For a few minutes, he simply walked around. Harry was famous, but not nearly as much of a tabloid sensation. Nobody really bothered him besides to shake his hand and thank him for his service. There were some glares, of course, from the old guard and those who were jealous. This was normal.

Suddenly though, Harry heard something interesting. A smooth, self-assured voice brought back many memories. He turned left face to see Draco Malfoy speaking with some brown-haired legal witch.

"Anyways, Granger, nobody is going to help you with your policy. Word is, a lot of money and prestige is against your statements. Come with me and we can make deal," he finished pompously,

With a determined gait, Harry approached Malfoy, "Hello there."

Malfoy spun on his heels, fear in his eyes. _Good, he remembers me and what I did, _Harry analyzed.

Draco Malfoy was a very confident man. Before he'd attained his scar, he'd also been good looking in a poncey sort of way. Now, though, the first thing you saw when you looked at him was the neat scar across his lower face, from one cheek to the other. A portion of his lips weren't able to be regrown, and forever visible were his shiny white teeth. All in all, Malfoy was a gruesome sight.

Harry grinned but it didn't reach his eyes, "Well, Malfoy, it's been a while. Remember me?"

He did. "Ah, I.. Potter. I do. How could I not?"

Harry nodded, "True, I am pretty hard to forget. I never forgot the men who scarred me; though I must say they were a lot more of a threat than you are," Harry nodded to Draco — who was looking suspicious pale — before swiveling to look at the woman he was speaking to. "Hello. What is your name?"

"My name is Hermione Granger," she responded in a somewhat condescending manner. Most legal folk were like that, though.

Harry nodded, raising her hand to his lips, "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger."

"Oh, well, I must say I am pleased to meet you as well," she began.

"Look, I'd love to stay around and listen to you two prattle on but I have other things to do, I really must be going," Draco cut in. Throughout their exchange, Draco had been getting angrier and angrier, Harry knew. Draco Malfoy loved to be the centre of attention. To be ignored burned him.

Harry nodded, pulling a card from his robe and handing it to Hermione, "Here is my contact information. If this bastard threatens you, I'd be happy to give him another scar. Perhaps a more deadly one."

Harry walked away, not waiting for a response. He didn't particularly like the woman, he just hated Malfoy, causing him grief always made him feel better. He just wished he hadn't missed with that several charm.

Before he could continue his walk and polite chat, he noticed a bit of commotion. Turning to the source of attention, he saw Minister Weasley arriving with several guards as well as what appeared to be his family, if the red haired individuals behind him didn't give it away.

Harry had worked with the Order of the Phoenix and led it after the death of Albus Dumbledore. He knew Arthur and Molly, as well as their eldest child Bill. Arthur had never been a combat oriented type, he was more of an informant on the inner-workings of the Ministry. When the Ministry collapsed, Arthur hadn't been very useful though he had still done his best.

Molly Weasley had surprised him. She was a kind-hearted woman who worked more as a healer and cook for the Ministry. He knew the names of each of her children, as she had never ceased talking about them at Order dinners. At the Battle of Hogwarts, though, she had proven herself a true Gryffindor. Harry had seen the youngest Weasley, Ginevra, and some friends battling with Bellatrix Lestrange. He had been about to kill her when Bellatrix used a Killing Curse. Ginevra had nearly been hit, and this seemed to awaken Molly's inner lion. In what had seemed to be a flash, Molly was engaged in one of the most intense duels Harry had ever witnessed. Just as quickly, Molly killed Bellatrix. This had earned her Harry's undying respect; if there was one thing Harry could understand, it was the need to protect family. That maternal feeling is he was alive, after all.

Bill Weasley had been much the same. As a curse breaker, he had some combat knowledge as well as great knowledge in spell variety. He also bore a wicked battle-scar, courtesy of Fenrir Greyback. It was very similar to the scar that Harry himself had earned, though his had been from a knife, courtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange. _She really had been a mad bitch._

These three Weasleys had given Harry a rather high view of them as a family, and he respected them immensely. He could see Percy, Ronald, and Ginevra also in attendance. He knew Percy as everyone did: the well-meaning enthusiastic (too enthusiastic, if you asked Harry) Justice. After the war, he had been one of the main members of the Ministry to competently reorganize it and had received a position as a Justice on the new Wizengamot.

Ronald had fought in the War but Harry had never really seen him, so he didn't know him all that well, but he respected anyone who fought in the final battles. They were truly harrowing situations.

Ginevra, he had seen fighting, but only that fight with Bellatrix. That fight in itself had been very showing of her character: Anyone willing to fight Bellatrix was worthy of an Order of Merlin. He did notice that she had grown into a beautiful young woman, which reminded him why he was here tonight: women and free alcohol.

Harry noticed that the Weasleys were immediately surrounded by people. He breathed a sigh of relief; just because he was used to speaking with people didn't mean he had to like it. This also gave him time to nick a glass from the table next to him. Looking down, he noted it was simply a butterbeer. With a shrug he drank the contents and put it back down.

Harry decided to go get actual alcohol. If he was going to speak with anyone, he was going to need some liquid courage.

* * *

A few hours later saw Harry sitting in a back corner scowling in between sips of his drink. His several attempts and being sociable failed miserable, especially when he tried to chat up a few 'birds' as Sirius had been fond of saying. _Star-struck idiots, all of them._

He knew he had drank slightly too much and it would not be a good idea to get drunk at a Ministry event. Standing, he set his glass down on the table and made to walk away. _Besides, I have plenty of alcohol at home. Haven't even run out of Sirius' good stuff._

This thought just angered him, though. He couldn't help but remember the times that he'd had with Sirius like his first drink when he had turned sixteen. Sirius had watched as he got pissed and made a fool of himself. Harry had been in pain the morning after and furious. He had been so annoyed that he'd spent a week creating a potion that was similar to the Hangover Cure but instead simply cured his inebriation. Taking it made you instantly sober. Harry usually took it before he went to sleep, when he was drunk. _Most nights, then,_ Harry added.

Halfway across the hall, though, he was stopped by a voice he didn't recognize, "What's got your knickers in a twist then, Potter?"

He blinked. He'd been spoken to reverently all night, it was almost refreshing to be talked to so brusquely. Turning, he saw it was Ginevra, "I don't feel like there's much to celebrate," he replied, more heatedly than he had intended, "Anyways, there's no good company here."

To his surprise, she snorted in a very unladylike fashion, "Isn't that the truth. Still, sulking is bad for your health, and I've seen you drink quite a few glasses tonight."

Harry grinned, "Been watching me, have you?"

She nodded matter-of-factly, "Yeah. Hard not to see the big prat in the corner practically drowning himself with firewhisky."

Harry's grin widened and he knew he'd met a master at verbal battling, "Right, you got me there. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to go drown myself at home."

She nodded, but as Harry began to turn, he heard Arthur's exuberant voice, "Ginny, there you are. Oh, and Harry, too! I've been looking for you all night, lad. I see you've met my beautiful daughter, but I thought I'd introduce you to my family; or at least the ones you haven't met."

Harry nodded sadly, knowing it would be impolite to refuse now, "Of course, sir, I'd be honoured."

Ginevra, or Ginny, as Arthur had called her, laughed. Following Arthur and Ginny, he was led to the centre table. Thankfully, at this late hours, only the Weasleys were there. Arthur pulled Harry in front of him, "Alright, clan, I want you guys to meet Harry Potter. He's a good friend of your mother and I."

Bill stood first, and the rest followed. He reached his hand out for Harry to shake, "I know we've met, Harry, but it's been a while. Good to see you again."

Harry shook his hand firmly, "You as well, Bill. How have things been?"

Bill's eyes lit up, "Very interesting, actually, we think we may have located a tomb we've been searching for for a few years now."

Harry was genuinely interested, "You'll have to tell me more later."

After Bill confirmed he would, Harry turned to Percy and repeated the handshake. Before Harry could get a word in, Percy began, "Mr. Potter, it's a pleasure to meet someone as renowned as yourself."

Harry was annoyed but at this point he was used to it, "Thank you, Justice. How has the Wizengamot been? I know there were a lot of folks worried about the new system, but it seems to have been performing admirably."

Percy practically glowed with glee, "Oh, it's been wonderful. True justice has been served with crisp efficiency. We will be conducting Macnair's trial soon, and I know you personally have a stake in that. Congratulations on that catch, by the way."

Harry thanked him and moved on to the next in line, Molly, and raised her hand to his lips. After a moment, he spoke, "Mrs. Weasley, as always, it's a delight to see you. How have you been?"

Molly hugged him in one of her infamous hugs, "Oh, dear child, I've been wonderful. How have you been? I hate that you live alone."

Harry nodded sadly in acceptance, "It's been hard, but I'm alright. Sirius was a good man and he taught me a lot. I was prepared."

Seeing this conversation going dark, Harry turned to the next one, Ronald, "Hello, Ronald, how are you?"

Harry asked it politely, hoping to not cause offense, but it seemed Harry's lack of knowledge or praise had Ronald bristling, "Fine, Potter."

Harry raised his hand for a handshake but Ronald didn't reciprocate and after an awkward few seconds he let it fall. Ignoring Molly's reprimand towards Ronald, he turned to Ginny.

"If you try to kiss my hand I'll hex you," Ginny informed him cheekily and Harry raised an eyebrow.

Bill chortled, "She's not lying, Potter, I've taught her some good ones."

Harry grinned, offering his hand. Her hands were an anomaly, firm but soft at the same time. Calloused but not worn.

After all introductions were finished, Harry sat across from Arthur politely. He didn't really want to stay but he could do worse for company.

Deciding that if he was going to stay here, he didn't want it to be awkward, he turned to Bill, "So, Bill, you were telling me about a tomb you've located?"

Bill nodded eagerly, "Yes. Our team at Gringotts has been looking for this tomb since 1994. We found it in another tomb, written in the ancient language. Ancient Runes comes in handy, especially for curse breakers. A lot of tombs are inter-connected, so most we uncover have runes that will speak of other tombs, typically friends or family members of those entombed. This one, though, only had the name and country: The Pythia in Greece. We believe this to mean the Oracle of Delphi, probably her resting grounds. She was a famous seer."

Harry was very interested in this topic, and he knew that Remus would have been hooked on every word Bill said. He'd also heard of the Seer of Delphi, or Oracle as she was known in the muggle Greek religion. Remus had been fascinated by this topic.

"That's fascinating. My tutor, Remus Lupin, you know him, loved telling me about the Seer. You're telling me that you may have her location? I'd love to be able to join you there," Harry really would as well. The idea of the history behind it was staggering.

Bill's glee was practically palpable: not many people were interested in curse breaking, "Well, if you weren't an Auror, I could probably take you on it. We can't take anyone who isn't with Gringotts or an employee, unfortunately."

Harry turned to Arthur and saw he looked a little embarrassed, "I see Arthur here forget to make the Auror list public. Anyways, I decided not to sign the papers; I'm unemployed," Harry informed him, wondering if he wanted to do this.

"What? Why the bloody hell would you not take the job?" Ronald asked, far louder than he probably intended.

Harry glared at him, his neat composure breaking for a minute, "When you fight and kill in war, when you watch your entire family — at least, those that didn't die before you even had a chance to know them — die in war, you find that being an Auror is not all that glorious as people make it out to be," He couldn't keep the coldness from his voice.

After a moment of shocked silence, Molly, Arthur, and Percy all started reprimanding Ronald. Beside him, Ginny giggled, "You've made one hell of an impression of them, Harry."

Bill nodded knowingly, and Harry realized that besides for him, Bill was the most likely to understand what he meant. Bill had been there when Fred had died, and he was the most battle-experienced of the Weasley family. Harry shrugged, "You're right. I'm sorry I went off like that, that just happens sometimes."

Ginny turned serious, "Ignore Ron, Harry, he gets jealous a lot. The idea of you doing a job he'd wanted annoys him, even though he could've done it if he'd just worked in school. Now he works with our brother George in a joke shop."

Harry nodded solemnly, looking at the gathered family, "I understand, trust me. I understand how damaging jealousy can be. You guys are very lucky."

Ginny slapped him on the arm playfully, "Don't get all sappy on us now, Potter."

Bill brought Harry back to the topic they had previously discussed, "So, Harry, would you be interested in working with us? The job could be temporary until after this and you can decide if you want it. You'd be, in a way, my apprentice. At least, that's how the goblins see it."

Harry considered it. It sounded amazing, but he didn't want to make an important decision at the drop of a hat, especially considering his slight inebriation, "It does sound bloody amazing. When are you all getting involved? I've got two problems; first of all, I want time to think about it, and secondly, I've got a bit of bad history with Gringotts."

Bill grinned, "Oh, I heard about the dragon escapade, trust me. It's pretty much all water under the bridge, especially since you reimbursed them for damages cost."

Harry was confused, "I did? I don't remember that."

"Who owns your vault?"

Harry's eyes widened, "They can do that?"

Bill chuckled, "Relax, Harry. What it costs for repairs didn't even put a dent in your fortune. In fact, it's already grown past what you lost. Your father must have made some smart investments because the fortune is only growing."

"Actually, it was my mother, and yes, she had a mind for that sort of thing. Anyways, when do I have to confirm if I can come with you? Frankly, I'm still considering my career options. I've basically narrowed it down to joining Quidditch professionally or teaching Defence. Now curse breaker, too, I suppose."

Ginny jumped in, "Professional Quidditch?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, a few teams scouted me due to my skill as a Seeker on the Auror inter-ministry team. You a fan of Quidditch?"

Bill answered for her, much to her anger, "A fan, Harry? Blimey, you're really out of connections, aren't you? Ginny played for the Holyhead Harpies for a few years until… well, that's her story to tell."

Harry turned to Ginny in interest but he could see she looked uncomfortable. Deciding it would be impolite to ask, he apologized, "I'm sorry if I've brought up anything uncomfortable. No need to tell me anything, I was just curious."

Ginny nodded and he turned back to Bill, "So, how much time?"

"You have a week."

Harry sighed. _Why is it always a week?_

* * *

Harry uncorked a small bottle, drinking the Intoxication Cure, before laying down in his bed and pulling the covers over him. He couldn't stop thinking about what Bill had said. Being a curse breaker was incredibly dangerous at times and was really for those seeking adventure and wealth. Harry had an immense amount of wealth already, so he didn't really need that.

Adventure, though. Harry had enjoyed visiting other countries and thought that unearthing old tombs would be very exciting. Not only that, but interesting. The Seer of Delphi was infamous in history. He imagined the excitement he could feel, finally unearthing her tomb, and he was getting excited just _thinking _about it.

The last time he'd had a week to make a decision, Harry had agonized over it to the point of genuine stress. Now, though, Harry's choice was easy. He hated the confinement of being an Auror, and this curse breaker position seemed like a great way to find freedom. He needed to escape.

And this was it. Tomorrow he would talk to Bill. Tomorrow, he would break free.

* * *

As it was a weekend, he had been assured that Bill would be home. Harry decided to floo call Bill at exactly ten in the morning. Harry had been embarrassingly excited about this call.

"Bill, are you here?" He called out, viewing what appeared to be Bill's living room. To his surprise, though Ginny walked into the room.

"Harry? Oh, bad luck, He's in the shower."

"What are you doing at Bill's flat?" Harry queried.

"I live here. After I moved out to rent a flat with the Harpies, I realized how much I love being away from mum's suffocating presence. When I… had to leave the Harpies, I decided I really didn't want to move back home so Bill let me live here while I seek a new job."

Harry nodded, "Alright, that makes sense. Anyways, I wanted to tell Bill that I accept his job."

Ginny grinned at him, "He said you would. He said, and I quote, 'He's got that look in his eyes.' Frankly, I think you're both mental. Who wants to go digging around for some old musty dead people?"

"Oh, afraid of dirt are you, Weasley?" He teased.

She growled, "Oh, it's you who should be afraid, Potter. Anyways, you can come on through, if you want, Bill will be out soon."

Harry stifled a sigh of relief. His knees were starting to ache. He came through rather ungracefully and landed in a heap. He could hear Ginny laughing uproariously, "The Boy-Who-Can't-Floo-For-Shite, eh?" Harry just glared at her.

"Ginny, what are you laughing about?" Bill appeared in the doorway and his eyebrows rose when he saw Harry on the floor. With a groan, Harry got up.

"Oh, Harry here tumble through the floo. I guess he was eager to tell you he'd take your job."

Harry groaned again, "As your sister so eloquently put it: yes, I want to the job."

Bill smiled kindly, "I knew you would."

Ginny looked smug. Harry sighed.

Bill looked down, realizing he only had a towel wrapped around himself, "Well, I'll uh… leave you folks to talk, gotta get dressed."

Harry looked pointedly at Ginny, "So, Gin, what are you going to do for a living?"

Ginny glared at him, "What did you just call me?"

Harry grinned, "Are you going to answer me… Gin?"

"I have half a mind to beat you right now," she warned him.

"Fiery one, are you? Blimey," Harry exclaimed.

She sighed, "Honestly though, I have no idea what I'm going to do, I've been pretty directionless lately. Quidditch was my dream."

Harry quirked an eyebrow, still curious about what stopped her. Suddenly, a light flashed on in his head and he saw an opportunity, "Ginny, I, er, that is to say... Bloody hell, would you be interested in going out and getting some dinner some time?"

Ginny just smirked at him, "Are you trying to ask me on a date? Because that was terrible."

Harry laughed, "Of course I am. Didn't you just see me come out the floo? I'm not a very graceful man."

Ginny's smirk widened, "You're paying."

Harry nodded.

"I get to pick the place," she continued.

Harry nodded remarkably less confident.

"It's a date, then," she confirmed smugly.

Harry realized his vault was liable to take a sizable hit. Good thing he was loaded.

"Maybe the papers _are _right about you," she continued teasingly.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, surely you know they paint you as a heartbreaking stud out to get as many women as possible?" she said in a perfectly innocent tone.

"Wait, do they really?" he asked. Harry hadn't read any of that garbage since before the War.

Ginny was shocked, "Where do you live? Under a rock?"

Harry just sighed, "The Prophet is a piece of trash and most other papers are as well. Forget most of the shite you read in that."

She nodded sincerely, "Of course. I already knew that, I just wanted to take the piss. Sorry."

He waved her apology away, "No problem. Anyways, does Monday night sound good? Around seven?"

Ginny nodded and Bill took that moment to enter, saving them both from awkward silence before it began, "Alright that's better. So, Harry, can you be in to Gringotts at 8 in the morning on Monday? I'll meet you in the lobby and take you to my office."

Harry nodded, "That's perfectly fine for me. I've always been an early riser."

Ginny took this moment to intercede, "Oh, Bill, don't keep him in too late, yeah? I've got a date with him now."

Harry's eyes widened. He had _not _wanted to share that yet.

Bill was shocked, "Oi, Harry, what are you playing at?"

Harry glared at Ginny, who was smiling impishly, before turning back to Bill, "Ah, well, you see… Oh, bugger. I've not been on a date since the end of the bloody War and your sister is a beautiful woman who doesn't look at me like I'm some public display," Harry ranted before blushing. He really had not meant to say all that.

Ginny giggled and Bill smirked, "Relax, Harry, I stopped the big brother act after she hexed me. It was with the spell I taught her, mind you. Be careful with that witch."

Ginny glared at Bill now, "Be careful, Bill, I'm going on a date with the Boy-Who-Lived, I could probably get him to hex you too."

Harry gawked at her, "Blimey, Ginny, I'm not an attack dog."

She turned at him and winked, "Quiet, boy."

Harry groaned. He knew he'd never win with her. Bill and Ginny laughed.

* * *

Harry walked into his home and entered the kitchen. He was grinning widely and he couldn't seem to stop. He knew he looked like an idiot, but he felt better than he had in years. He had a new career open, one that was exciting and well paying, and he had a date with a beautiful if somewhat cheeky woman.

Harry knew that today was a very important day in his life. He'd just taken his first steps towards fixing himself. He was beginning to live again.

* * *

**A/N: I wrote a lot today. I mean, a mind-numbing lot. When I find a lot of free time I just write and today I hit a really good spree. I decided I'd upload this since I'm so far ahead of schedule. From this point on, I'll likely upload one to two chapters of this a week. There really shouldn't be that many more chapters than ten, I never intended for this to be a super long story, just a nice, average sized fic.**

**I also just uploaded the first chapter of the Quidditch Harry story, Taking Flight, here as well. It's a shorter and lighter style and won't be as long as this one. I'd like to mention that I had no idea how many stories there were on this site called "Taking Flight" but after a quick Google search, it turns out it's a hell of a lot. Sweet Merlin!**

**Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! There may be a few grammar errors that my poor eyes couldn't catch in there, feel free to call me out for being a dolt if you see 'em! **


	3. Gringotts and Ginevra

**A bit of a warning: The last scene has a bit of solo naughtiness going on. if you don't like that, skip it I guess. This is a M rated story, so this really shouldn't surprise you, but I wanted to make sure to put a warning here. From this point on - and that applies for other chapters - consider yourself warned; this story is mature for a reason.**

* * *

Diagon Alley had changed a lot since the war. The first post-war infrastructure action taken was to completely rehaul it. Knockturn Alley had practically been invaded by DMLE forces and eviscerated. It was now a clean, bright, and open area similar to the rest of the Alley. The DMLE had since maintained a high presence in the Alley which Harry knew did wonders for Ministry public relations.

Diagon Alley had also grown. With all the of the shady types being forced out, more business flocked to the Alley and therefore more people. In a show of great magical expansion, the Alley had been resized accordingly. Some smart, opportunistic individual had set up a housing complex and, with all the new people flocking to the Alley, prospered. Whereas before it had been medium sized area with fair business, it now more resembled a small city.

All of this pleased Harry as he knew it did wonders for the Statute of Secrecy. Wizards and Witches no longer were forced to live among muggles and therefore less prone to being caught by muggles. Ministry Obliviators were remarkable less busy.

Harry had a purpose today, though. He walked in stride down the sidewalk towards Gringotts. Today, he would become a curse breaker apprentice. While this may even be temporary, Harry was excited. The topic of Ancient Runes and the overall history and excitement of curse breaking appealed to him greatly.

He was used to performing patrols in the Alley, though, and had to constantly remind himself not to scan the crowds. He wondered if he'd ever get out of that habit, but he also couldn't be upset; it was a useful thing to be accustomed to. _Constant Vigilance, _Harry's mind supplied. He chuckled ruefully to himself, earning some odd looks.

Gringotts was a very impressive building. Harry slowly made his way through the large crowds gathering on the street, some heading into Gringotts and some heading down the road past it. He admired the architecture, its traditional style never failed to impress him. Most of Diagon Alley, or at least the Old Quarters, as most had begun calling it, were of traditional build, but Gringotts somehow managed to be both plain and spectacular.

Shaking his head, Harry continued up the steps, smiling as he approached the doors. He'd worn formal attire as he'd seen the goblins dress several times in his life- they were always immaculately dressed. He knew that human curse breakers typically worked on their own, but he didn't want to take any risks here.

For the first time in many years, Harry Potter was excited about his future. He wasn't going to miss this opportunity. He pulled open the door, resting his hand on the side as he slipped in. As always, it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the light and grandeur of the lobby. Noises flooded over him, reverberating off the walls. Gringotts was as busy as ever.

Despite this, Harry managed to find Bill quickly. Not only was the curse breaker tall, but he did stand out pretty well with his earring and long red hair. He politely pushed through the crowd to him.

"Morning, Harry. I'm glad to see you showed up, I was beginning to worry," Bill greeted.

Harry had to fight the urge to blush. He'd been childishly excited by the meeting today as well as the date later and hadn't gone to sleep at a reasonable time which had resulted in him getting a late start, "Yeah, I'm excited. Sorry it took so long, I slept in a bit later than I had intended."

Bill grinned, "Happens to the best of us. Alright, please follow me," Bill led Harry behind the registry desks. Harry was startled for he had only ever been down to the vaults, he'd never actually been in the administration part of Gringotts. In truth, he'd always assumed the offices were below the lobby as well.

The grandeur of Gringotts' lobby wasn't the only part of Gringotts that was lavish: The offices were very lush looking. clearly Gringotts treated its employees well. "And here to the right are the curse breaker offices. For the most part, Gringotts allows us to run our own projects without much supervision though we obviously have to give half of the cut from an expedition to the bank."

Harry nodded, having expected as much. He didn't care about the money, he was here for the history and adventure. Entering the cure breaker quarters, Harry saw three individuals chatting near a large, white and gold fountain in the middle of the room. They nodded to Bill and one of them called out, "This the new one you were talking about, Bill?"

Bill grinned at him, "Yep, and I'll introduce him to you lot in a bit. For now, though, I'm gonna go over some procedures with him. I hope you're all ready," With that, Bill opened his office and bid Harry enter. Unlike the outside, his office was quite plain, though the sofa looked quite comfortable. Bill plopped down in the chair behind his desk and pointed to the chair in front of it.

"Alright, I already know you have good instincts and reflexes, obviously, so we'll skip that part, but I need to know: How good are you with wards and countering them?"

Harry answered immediately, "Far above average. When the Ministry collapsed, Remus, Tonks and I were on the run for a while. Can't give you any details on the mission, but I know all Level I through II wards as well as how to counter them. I know most Level III wards as well," Harry paused here, considering his words carefully.

The Ministry had, after the War, implemented a tier system for warding to organize and maintain control over some of the more dangerous wards. He knew that most curse breakers went by this now. Level one wards were simple wards that had no physical effect on the area it encompassed nor on anyone inside and outside. A good example of this were the Intruder Charm and the Imperturbable Charm. Level two wards had minor physical effects such as the Muggle Repelling Charm and the Muffliato Charm. Level three wards and up caused strong physical reactions or shielding such as the Maximum Shield Charm. Level four's and up were downright illegal without Ministry approval.

"Bill, there are things about the War that I should not tell you. One of them is a man I trained with for a time. He was… proficient in the Dark Arts, and he taught me some important things. Things I would not have been able to defeat Voldemort without."

Bill looked uncomfortable, "Harry, you were trained in Dark Arts? Just how much?"

Harry frowned, "Too much, Bill. I know things that people shouldn't know. I can wield powers that should never exist. But it was absolutely necessary, and I have never used these maliciously. I see these abilities as a necessary evil, and have only ever used them for good. The spells are never evil, it is the how they are used that determines what they are. I understand this line of logic has led many down a dark path, but I have had no such inclination. I hope you can trust me on that."

Bill nodded uncertainty, "I can't say I'm happy with it, but I do understand the necessity. Anything you tell me here will be completely confidential, and if you want I'll make a Magical Oath on that."

"I appreciate that, I will want an Oath after this talk," Harry confirmed. He withdrew his wand and with two movements had sealed the door and layered the room with the Muffliato Charm, "Bill, I know several level four wards as well as three level five wards."

Bill shook his head in awe, "You know level five wards, are you serious? Which ones?"

"I can cast the Fidelius Charm, though I suppose that does require multiple people. The second, well, that'd be better for me to show you," Harry still had his wand in hand.

With practiced confidence, Harry lifted his wand to the center of the ceiling, "_Protego Horribilis._" The change was immediate as the walls and ceiling blurred and a grey film spread over them.

Bill smiled, "That is a fantastic one, Harry. What was the third?"

Harry shook his head and cancelled the ward, "I genuinely can't show you that one, Bill… It is Dark magic. Genuine, malicious and lethal Dark Magic. It has two purposes: kill anyone meaning harm and protect me and my friends. I've only used it twice."

"Surely you can at least tell me what it is?"

Harry shrugged, "I could, but I won't. As far as I'm aware, nobody really knows it. It's in some texts, but only in the old and rare Dark Arts texts. The Ministry's ward listings don't even have it on there but trust me, if they did, it'd be level five. I don't want anybody to know about it if I can avoid it."

Bill could understand that logic, "Alright, I can understand that, but if there ever comes a time when you need to use this, I'd appreciate some warning."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "You expect I'd need to use severe Dark Magic?"

"Hey, you never know. Harry, I've seen some terrible things, especially in the War. Let me tell you, though, I never came as close to death in the War as I have curse breaking. You have to understand, you're going to be in constant danger. This is a high-risk job and it only has people because it pays so well. I'm sure that you're a little lost. You were raised for combat, right? So becoming a curse breaker is a good compromise. You have to have sharp reflexes and combat knowledge without having to go out of your way to fight other human beings. But this isn't a game, it's a life or death job."

Harry realized that Bill was pretty much spot on. Sirius and Remus had wanted Harry to have the happiest childhood possible, but they also knew that if he didn't train, he would _only _have a childhood with no real life afterwards to look forward to. Training to defeat Voldemort had been his first and unfortunately only priority. He had spent some time in Godric's Hollow. The first fourteen years of life were spent there. He had spent some time at Grimmauld Place but Sirius had wanted him to grow up with some people around so they had lived there.

Harry nodded, "I understand, Bill. You're right, though, I am not experienced in many other things. To tell you the truth, I'm not comfortable with an action-lacking job, I don't think. I need to _do _something, be somebody. This job does sound like the perfect compromise."

"Right. So clearly you're up to snuff on warding and I don't think we need to test your reflexes. I took the time to request your OWLs and NEWTs from the Ministry and it seems they were very impressive. Not only were you under the normal age for both of them but you scored extra points on your Defence OWL, and as a side note it says due to your ability to produce a fully corporeal Patronus charm. Can you do that one for me?"

Harry nodded, muttering the incantation solemnly and watching as his silvery falcon shot from his wand and circled the room. Bill clapped, "Believe it or not, that spell comes in handy for a lot more than just Dementors. It is also a messenger, though I'm sure you know that. It can also be a bloody good distraction."

Harry knew all of this, of course, but he didn't interrupt. After another ten minutes of discussion and showcasing of Harry's talents in spellwork and the Ancient Runes, Bill had confirmed that he was more than qualified to be a curse breaker.

"So, what's next, Bill?"

He just smirked, "I'll give you the Magical Oath you asked for, and then we finally get to the fun part: you get the meet the rest of our team. Gringotts employees around twenty or so curse breakers but our team - the one I lead - is the special team. We go where the other teams can't, the special forces of the Gringotts curse breakers, if you will."

He stood and beckoned Harry to follow him out of the room. Harry smiled, feeling remarkably lighter now than before he had entered. As Bill opened the door, Harry felt a sense he'd felt many times before. Discreetly, he casted a silent _Homenum Revelio, _and it revealed seven people outside. Three by the fountain and one behind the door.

Harry heard Bill's earlier words, '_This is the fun part'. _Harry grinned, deciding to have fun with it instead of just foil it. He followed Bill to the middle of the room while maintaining a wandless shield charm behind him. Using a trick he learned from Remus, he managed to reflect the silent spell that was shot at him, turning it back on the caster.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he turned to see a man around the same age as Bill sprawled out on the ground. He turned back to Bill, "We get to the fun part yet?"

Before he could respond, one of the curse breakers - a rather pale, beautiful woman with short black hair and blue eyes - laughed, "I think you'll do."

"Harry, meet the team. The man you just, er, actually, how did you do that?"

Harry's smug smile only grew, "If you angle the Shield Charm right, you can reflect spells."

"Anyways, the man you just knocked on his arse is Mike Sims. He specializes in research," Bill paused to renervate Mike. He turned to the girl who had spoken earlier, "This is Lisa Hawkins, she focuses on countering wards, specifically wards keeping people out of places."

She smiled and held her hand out. Harry reciprocated her smile and shook her hand. Bill introduced the other two, "And these gentlemen are David and James Rowe."

Harry shook their hands in turn, "Pleased to meet you all."

David was around Harry's age if he had to guess. He was tall with blond hair and grey eyes, "Pleasure to meet you, Harry. Bill's told us a lot about you. I focus on placing charms on items we find, mostly preservation charms and age detecting charms."

James, very similar in looks to his brother but shorter and stockier, grinned and patted Harry's shoulder, "And I, Mr. Potter, specialize in countering curses."

At this point, a rather disgruntled Mike had gathered his wits and joined them, "That was a damned good move, Potter. Pleased to meet you. As I'm sure Bill told you, I focus on research. Both for assessing what we find and for researching the actual places we're going. I also arrange the portkeys and such that we'll we need when ready to travel."

Bill's eyes gleamed with pride, "And together we're the finest curse breaking team in England."

* * *

Harry left Gringotts an hour later with a wide smile on his face. After they went over the initial meeting, they had simply talked. Bill insisted it was important for them all to be comfortable with each other, so they just traded stories and facts about themselves. It was a bit awkward as he was somewhat a celebrity and also couldn't share some portions of his past, but overall he really liked them. They hadn't treated him as some noble hero and instead treated him like an equal.

Lisa was very cheeky and not at all 'ladylike' in the traditional sense. Harry got the feeling that she abhorred being coddled and wanted to make her own way in the world which was something Harry respected immensely. David and James were a great team and very alike, though they specialized in opposite things. Mike was a bit snooty but he was also very intelligent and Bill had referred to him as the "brains of the team." Harry was looking forward to the next few days in which they would continue to get used to his presence and brief him on their latest mission.

But he had even more to look forward to tonight- dinner with Ginny. After spending a few hours reading some material provided by Mike, Harry decided to plan out the date. He remembered that Ginny wanted to choose the place, but he wanted to be prepared anyways. He was also deathly bored, especially since every minute seemed to be extra long today.

First order of business had been clothes. Muggle clothes had become a lot more accepted and common in Wizarding Society lately, so he dressed in a casual though sharp muggle manner. He wasn't a square and he wasn't going to pretend to be one. He had also tried and - as always - failed to tame his hair.

Moving on to the actual location, he considered the prospects. There had been several great places to grab a bite in Diagon Alley but he wondered if she'd want that. She seemed like an adventurous type, so Harry decided that if up to him he'd take her to a nice muggle place that Sirius had been fond of.

Something told Harry there was very little chance it'd be up to him.

Finally, after much nervous waiting, the clock had struck seven and he used the Floo to call Ginny. Or at least he hoped. It'd be a bit awkward if Bill answered it. To his relief, it was Ginny. "Hiya, Harry."

"Hi, Ginny. Mind if I come through the Floo?" He asked warmly.

"Yeah, actually, I do. You'll probably break something. I think I'd better come through to your place," she grinned.

Harry sighed and, with not a little grumbling, withdrew from the Floo. A second later, Ginny appeared gracefully. For the first time that night Harry got a good look at her. She was wearing a emerald green blouse with faded jeans. The muggle look was very similar to how he decided to dress and he grinned.

"Alright, Potter, you promised me I'd get to pick the place we go to," she reminded him.

"Yep. D'you know where you wanna go?"

"Oh, I know just the place. It's a muggle steak house- I trust that won't be an issue?"

Harry's grin widened, "No problem at all, Weasley."

* * *

Harry watched as Ginny proceeded to eat what he was willing to swear was an entire herd of cows. He had no idea where she put it. Having seen her brother Ronald - or Ron, as Ginny had told him he liked to be called - eat, Harry figured the Weasley family must have some special metabolism secret.

They hadn't spoken much as they ate; indeed, Harry was scared to interrupt her while eating. She clearly had a fondness for cows that he couldn't even comprehend. Finally, after a fantastic main dish (Harry had to confess, Ginny definitely picked a wonderful location), they brought out dessert and Ginny had deemed it time to speak.

"So, Harry, we all know how disreputable the papers are, so why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Harry nodded, opening into the tale of his early life with the famous marauders. Ginny had expressed her shock at that- it turned out that her twin brothers had found a map of Hogwarts that had been created by them. Harry knew all about the Marauder's Map and had been delighted to hear that a pair of pranksters had managed to keep the dream alive. He told her of his childhood in Godric's Hollow.

As much as he didn't want to turn the date gloomy, he did give her a rough outline of the War and his actions in it. She had already known about the Order of the Phoenix, so he didn't have to go into detail on that. He also explained about the aftermath of the War and his year of traveling. After the War, Harry had no one left so he'd traveled all over the world as Sirius had once dreamed of doing. It had felt good to live out the dream in his stead and he had seen a lot of wonderful things.

He also explained his reasoning behind dropping from the Auror program and his intentions on becoming a curse breaker.

Throughout this, Ginny had remained attentive and only interrupted a few times to ask for further clarification. By the end, her eyes showed understanding mixed with sadness.

"What about girls? Surely Harry Potter has had quite a bit of experience there," she asked cheekily but Harry did sense an underlying interest and knew his answer was important.

He flushed, "Ah, well… Really, you couldn't be farther from the truth. I've only ever had one girlfriend and that ended awfully."

Her eyes widened, "Only one girlfriend? And why did it end?"

Harry looked down at the table. The pain of that night still hit him, sometimes, "Well, Voldemort and his Death Eaters found out where I lived and struck Godric's Hollow. That was the night that Sirius died, and my girlfriend had also been murdered in the attack."

Ginny was horrified and she reached out to put her hand on top of his, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Harry just smiled sadly, "I know, no need to apologize. I need to stop being so gloomy. So, tell me about yourself."

And she did. Harry was fascinated with her descriptions of the Burrow and her childhood. Her brothers, especially the twins, sounded very fun. Of course, Harry knew Bill and Percy, but only distantly. He'd never met the twins or Charlie, but they also sounded interesting.

He rubbed the top of her hand in what he hoped was a comforting manner as she explained how Fred had been killed in the War. He'd known this, of course, but hearing her say it made it real and remarkably more sad. That damned war had taken too many good people. He couldn't help but feel some slight guilt. If only he'd killed Voldemort faster. Ginny had tactfully avoided exactly why she didn't play with the Harpies anymore, and Harry tactfully avoided asking her. She'd tell him when she was ready.

Before long, it was late. Time passed very quickly and Harry was pleased to find out he'd enjoyed himself. Ginny was easy to talk to, and it felt good to share his tale with somebody. He knew she wouldn't tell anyone anything he'd told her.

As they exited the building, Harry turned to her, "Ginny, I really enjoyed tonight. I'm going to be busy the next few days with my new job but I'd really love if we could talk more."

Ginny smiled softly, "I'd like that too, Harry. You're great to talk to," she paused, considering something, "for a bloke, at least."

Harry grinned, used to her cheek by now, "That's high praise from a titchy girl like you."

Ginny's smile turned feral and he realized he had entered dangerous territory. Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One, backpedaled desperately, "So, ah, Gin, when would you like to meet again? I have to leave for Greece on Friday."

Ginny shook her head regretfully, "I'm going to be busy the rest of this week. My brother's girlfriend is determined to find me a job regardless of what I think."

Harry nodded, "Alright, I'll get in touch when we get back. Tonight really was lovely, Ginny. Thank you."

The headed into the alley next to the steak house and Harry apparated them to his home. He had been very practiced in Apparition and made virtually no noise when apparating. Bidding her a good night, he watched her hips sway as she sauntered to his fireplace. He let a groan escape; her jeans were very form-fitting and left little to imagination. He swore he heard humor in her voice as she used the Floo Network to return home. With a disgruntled sigh, Harry headed to his bedroom.

As he undressed, he realized that his arousal was not going to be solved without action from himself. Thoughts of Ginny - of her mounting him, them rocking their hips together, were central in his mind. He could almost feel the heat and passion of it. A few moments later, Harry came in what he was confident was one of the best climaxes of his life. One wave of his hand later, Harry was clean and relaxed. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

Harry Potter fell asleep sleep with his heart lighter than it had been in years

* * *

**A/N:**

**Won't bore you with any long notes, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you have any questions / concerns please do review / DM me! :)**


	4. The Seer of Delphi

_He was faltering. No matter what level of power one possesses, no matter what training they have, fighting constantly for an hour will exhaust you. He stumbled past an unidentifiable seared corpse and somehow kept trudging forwards._

_He had a mission and lives counted on him achieving it. With a flick of his wand, he blasted a section of the wall open, walking through it. A glowing orange spell shot past him and he mechanically responded with a severing charm. Dully, he noticed his attacker was Draco Malfoy. As soon as he registered this, he also raised his wand, a curse on his lips. He despised the Malfoy family. Using his anger, turning it into energy as he was taught, he felt a calm fill him as his aches and pains receded._

"_Sectumsempra," he spat, turning sharply and sending the spell to the right where another Death Eater had just entered. He watched with grim satisfaction as the man collapsed, screaming. Severus Snape had begrudgingly taught Harry that spell after he had seen it performed in a prior battle._

_He turned back to the downed and now heavily bleeding Malfoy, intending to finish the job, but a massive blast rang out, nearly knocking Harry to the floor. Standing shakily, her heard a voice projected through the grounds, "Harry Potter. You have allowed all of these pawns to die for you. Come, finish this."_

_Harry didn't hesitate, his earlier anger now a burning tide of fire. Magic worked best when emotions were felt strongly- any emotion, truly, though certain magic worked better depending on the emotions. If you could use Occlumency to control your emotions, you could perform unbelievably powerful magic. Using this ability, Harry apparated directly onto the roof, completely ignoring the Anti-Apparition wards. _

_Voldemort clapped, "Well done, Harry, well done. I find this moment something to savour: The Boy-Who-Lived, come to die. How poetic."_

_Harry didn't bother speaking; instead, he began to launch a wide variety of spells. He moved fluidly between the return fire, him and Voldemort engaged in an age-old dance that ended in death. Voldemort continued to taunt him as they battled, "You're better than your father ever was, Harry! He didn't even last ten seconds against me."_

_After a few minutes though, it became apparent that Voldemort had the upper hand. Harry had been fighting for three minutes when his shield charm had been collapsed by a spell. Harry hadn't been harmed, but his wand was destroyed. _

_Voldemort laughed heartily, "Oh, dear boy, you fought better than Dumbledore, in the end. You've entertained me- be proud."_

_Harry reached into his left sleeve and withdrew a second wand. He spoke for the first time that night, "Oh, Tom, I'm afraid you've made a terrible mistake tonight."_

_For the first time in almost seventeen years, Voldemort felt fear, "Where did you find it? That old bastard wouldn't tell me!"_

"_He didn't know so there was no way he could've told you, Tom. And I didn't find it, I took it. Why do you think it accepts me? No, Tom, I'm done talking. Tonight you die, once and for all."_

"_Foolish boy, even if you defeat me here, I cannot die! I have defeated death- I defeated it before I even finished my Hogwarts education," Riddle shouted._

_Harry just smiled, his anger and power melding into one nonverbal spell. A grey flash of light shot from his wand, the Elder Wand, and wrapped around Tom Riddle. The last thing heard was his shrieking as his soul itself - not very large considering his many Horcruxes - was torn from his body. The grey film created a small, smoky orb as it pulled the captured soul from his body._

_The orb, Tom Riddle's soul, slowly traveled in front of him. Whispering words that hadn't been used for over half a century, Harry watched, enthralled, as dark black flames emerged from his wand. Controlling it took supreme effort, but Harry managed it, sending the small streak of black blames to burn the orb. The shrieking only increased in volume as the dark flames destroyed Riddle's very soul._

_Harry collapsed to his knees. The battle was over._

Harry jerked awake. He was sweating profusely and it took him a few minutes to calm himself. He hadn't had thought about that night for a long time, even in his nightmares. It was a night he'd rather forget. He saw light filtering through the window of the master bedroom and was thankful that he'd managed to at least sleep until a reasonable time.

In fact, thinking about it, Harry realized that he had slept better last night than he had in years. He was excited for the day. With a smile, he dressed.

* * *

The last week had been a very busy one, with Harry being brought up to date on the job and its numerous aspects. Finally, though, Friday rolled around and it was finally time to go to Greece. Currently the team bar Lisa were in Bill's office going over their plans one last time.

"So, Harry, as you know, we've recently found what we think to be the tomb of the Seer of Delphi. We figured that it would be directly in the ancient sanctuary at Delphi but we couldn't find anything there. Over the last few years we broadened our search around the entire area but we had to cease during the War. As you know, there was trouble with Gringotts and Voldemort."

Harry did know this. Voldemort had seized Gringotts and used it to control people. If he held your money he held you. Money was important. "Yeah, I remember," Harry said ruefully. The whole team knew about his Gringotts break-in.

Mike nodded, "Well, after the War we resumed our searching. Greece, especially central Greece, is a very mountainous area and it took a while, but we detected a large magical source that is typical for a place of rest, especially one as famous as the Seer of Delphi."

Harry felt nervous excitement rise within him, "So we're going there, then?"

"Indeed. I've got the portkey set up pretty much whenever we're ready to go. It's set so that when we activate it it will take us directly to the steps of the temple. After that, we can use only once more to return to wherever we set off from. It's a two-way portkey, in essence. Very useful for us curse breakers. It was bloody difficult to get it from the Portkey Office- they seem to delight in being slow."

_That would have been useful during the War, _Harry mused, "Alright. When we are going?"

Bill chuckled, "When Lisa finally arrives," they all shared a laugh; Lisa was infamous for being slow. For every day Harry had been in to work she had been at least fifteen minute late.

Eventually Lisa did arrive and Harry's nervous excitement just turned into him being nervous. He knew it was irrational but this was his first mission and, from what he'd heard, it was probably going to be a hard one. Bill smiled knowingly at him as they gathered around the portkey - a long wooden rod - and clasped it tightly.

"Everyone ready?" Bill asked. After a chorus of affirmations, he activated the portkey. Harry felt a familiar sickening tug as he was pulled from Gringotts and, as he always did swear, nearly form his body. He hated portkeys. After a few sickening minutes Harry felt himself slam roughly into the ground. He groaned and opened his eyes to see everyone grinning at him.

"I hate portkeys," Harry grumped as he pulled himself to his feet. Ignoring their laughs, he observed his surroundings. They were halfway up a mountain but the temple itself was snug in a crevice, virtually invisible unless you were right on top of it. It's ingenious placement impressed Harry. He'd seen several different fortified areas and powerbases but this small little temple had to be one of the more secure places.

Immediately everyone sprang into action as planned. He could see Lisa a few feet ahead of the group waving her wand to check for any warding. Harry allowed his senses to sharpen and his eyes to try and see any visible showing of wards. Being an animagus had side-benefits besides for being able to become an animal: the senses were always sharp, even when he was in human form. When he allowed it, his senses became very strong. Even at regular level they benefited him. Harry hadn't needed glasses since he first transformed back when he was thirteen.

Being raised by two of the infamous Marauders had definitely had it's benefits. His eyes caught a grey film covering the temple from about two feet outwards, "Oi, there's a ward encompassing the entire temple itself. Shall I disable it?"

Lisa turned to him and spoke quietly, "Not yet, we have to make sure there's no wards set to trigger if we remove it. Sometimes these shifty bastards manage to place two wards and one triggers if you dismantle the other."

It all made good sense to Harry so he allowed the more experienced curse breakers to take point. After about twenty minutes Bill declared the ward free of any traps and they disabled it. He approached the door cautiously and inspected it. Harry could see from over his shoulder that the door was ancient and hadn't been tampered with in a very long time. Bill slowly opened the door, wincing as it nearly broke.

"Alright, guys, you know the drill. I'll take point; Lisa, you're directly behind me. If the stairs open outwards, you can come up to my side. I want Harry directly behind us. If there's a problem we could use your skills. The rest of you keep a healthy distance behind us and keep your ears peeled, we'll call you if we need you."

Their procession moved forwards carefully. Harry couldn't help but gaze at the walls next to the stairs. Lining the right wall were tapestries, and they seemed to be telling a story. They had some enchantments on them and, similar to Wizarding portraits, moved and told stories. As they progressed down the stairs, the tapestries continued. Harry was startled to realize he knew much about some of them. He saw Greek Hoplites standing against a force similar to their own, Wizards behind the shield wall. He'd read that Wizards and Witches hadn't always been hidden from the Muggles and these visions proved it. Further down he saw a man in a toga with a wand in hand.

Harry realized this was a tale of large events from history progressing from earlier to later. Further down he saw a wizard pointing a wand at King Henry VIII and using the Imperius Curse on him, driving him into madness. Harry was in awe. The sheer amount of history here- pure, unadulterated history, was amazing. This temple would be a treasure of knowledge. The Seer of Delphi must have seen and known so much as many of these events were passed her time.

Eventually, they arrived near modern times. Harry began to feel apprehension: This tapestry was more than just the muggle history, it also included Wizarding history. Would it reveal his secrets? And, further, how far were these stairs? How much of the future would they see.

Inevitably his questions were answered. After passing a scene of Grindelwald surrounded by black flames and Aurors, they reached Voldemort's rise. They saw Harry, as a baby, struck by the Killing Curse. The Curse rebounded, defeating Voldemort for the first time. It moved on to Voldemort's second death, the orb containing his soul being burned by Harry's dark flames.

Harry felt numb, but he knew he had to keep moving. As he prepared to head into the future, he saw that Bill and Lisa had stopped. They had reached the end of the stairs. Harry swore, for he had been somewhat interested in what they'd see. Why had the Seer stopped now?

"Harry… can you read this," Bill asked as he pointed to some text above the door. I can't seem to make it out.

Harry squinted and started with his sharp vision. To his shock, he could read it.

**Welcome, Harry Potter. **

Harry gasped, placing his hand shakily on the wall next to him to support himself. "Harry, what does it say?" Bill sounded nervous.

Harry answered with a tremulous voice, "Welcome, Harry Potter."

Bill's adjusted his stance, "Are you taking the piss?"

"No, I swear. Clearly I'm meant to be here. I'm a bloody pawn of prophecy yet again."

Bill shook his head, "We're going to make sure there's no traps here. I can already tell it needs some blood to open it, likely yours."

Harry nodded. He'd seen it's like before. Fortunately there were no traps on the door. Harry pulled out his wand and the end lit up. He dragged it across his hand with a wince, watching his blood flow free from the slice. Pressing his palm firmly into the door, he heard a great groan as it opened. After healing his hand, he stepped back and allowed Bill and Lisa to take point again. They moved forwards but were repulsed by an invisible force. Harry frowned, "There's no wards there, I've ran my own detecting charms."

Bill nodded, "At least it didn't hurt us. Harry, I need you to try and enter. Perhaps it only wants you, as the runes said."

Harry nodded and slowly walked towards the door. Reaching the threshold, he flinched and jumped through. To his immense relief, he landed on the other side. It was not at all what he expected. The room was very simple if old in style and fairly wide. He turned back to Bill but, to his horror, the door had closed. It was so solidly closed that he couldn't even hear any of his team on the outside. Harry didn't dare use a blasting curse on the door so he decided to move along the room. More tapestries moved along the wall and Harry realized he was seeing the Seer's life.

Harry felt immensely sad as he saw the important events in her life. When her talents as a Seer had revealed themselves in her early childhood, her family had brought her to Delphi and abandoned her. She was lauded as a legendary figure of great wisdom when in truth she was young and scared. She found herself in a new place with no friends and a great many enemies. Harry sympathized with her, having a similar experience. Perhaps that was why she had chosen him.

He found himself at the end of the tomb, staring down at her sarcophagus. It was plainly decorated and very, very old. Reaching a hand out, he placed it on top of it. Hearing a grating sound, he looked up. A large sarcophagus standing against the wall had just begun to open and the lid hit the ground with a solid crash.

Harry gulped as he saw the runes above it: **Guardian.**

A ten foot mummy stepped out of the tomb and Harry groaned. _Of course it couldn't be easy._

He glared as he pulled his wand from his holster and the tip lit gold. The room was illuminated gold as the flames leapt from his wand and slammed into the Guardian. For a moment, it was too bright to see. Harry had closed his eyes, knowing the brightness would blind his sensitive eyes if he didn't.

The brightness dimmed and Harry opened his eyes. The Guardian stood there before stepping forward once, twice, in a mechanical path. It wasn't living, but that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. In fact, it was more powerful in death.

"_Stupefy, Depulso, Diffindo, Sectumsempra,_" Harry's wand was a blur as he released a salvo of spells as fast as possible. The Guardian was barely affected.

One of the more important things that he had learned was that anything was deadly. A rock could be turned into a knife with a flick of his wand. His only limits were his imagination and energy. With this knowledge in mind, Harry began waving his hands in sure, practiced strokes. Sirius had once joked that when he performed magic at this level he looked like a conductor.

The ground beneath the Guardian turned to liquid sludge and began to grow, spreading over the Guardian. When he was encased in it, it solidified. For a dozen seconds Harry thought it had worked. Unfortunately, the dry earth cracked and the Guardian broke free with a thunderous roar.

Harry was getting frustrated. He knew that he had no hope unless he resorted to more power, so he pulled on his frustration. _My first expedition will not be a failure, _he growled in his mind.

Dark flames appeared on the floor directly where his wand was pointed: under the Guardian. The flames seemed to enervate the room, making it a dreadful place to be. With a _whoosh, _the flames spread, circling around the Guardian and consuming him. It melted almost immediately, sloshing to the ground. Harry flicked his wand again and the fire drew in on itself until it was no more.

He stumbled over to the Seer's sarcophagus. Something inside him was telling him to pull it open, so he did. Inside the tomb as a glass orb the side of his hand. He placed his hand upon it, willing it to open. His palm relaxed into its warmth.

He'd seen one similar to this before when he'd been in the Ministry Hall of Prophecy but it was very different. Harry panicked when he felt himself being pulled in, but it occurred to him that it was similar to some form of pensieve.

Harry was staring at a woman who he recognized as the Seer of Delphi, though she was old and quite clearly near death. He started when she spoke, "Harry Potter. By now, I'm sure you've recognized that this is a memory. I will be dead soon, and I have seen the many instances of this meeting with my Inner Eye. I have seen so much of history, Harry, and of everything I have seen, no person has as many paths as you."

Harry was astonished. The Seer had spoken with perfect English. He'd expected her to speak in an ancient dialect.

"I am unable to determine how your life goes. By the time you reach this memory, you will already have made two important decisions. Perhaps you will never see this, for one of those decisions led you here to me. You'll have more in your future, Harry Potter. You are a good man. Thank you," she smiled now, and Harry saw the pain her knowledge had caused her. _Bearing history on your shoulders can't be easy._

"Goodbye, Harry Potter. Enjoy your life, Master."

Harry tried foolishly to ask her what she meant by calling him Master. To his surprise she chuckled as if she knew he had spoke. Suddenly, Harry felt the ejection of his mind from the memory. He waved when he saw the door open yet again and his team rush in.

"Harry, what happened?" Bill asked, looking as panicked as Harry had ever seen him.

"Ah, well, nothing much, to tell you the truth. I was attacked by a mummy but I managed to get rid of him. I unearthed the Seer's sarcophagus but it's empty. As soon as I opened it the door opened."

James Rowe clapped him on the back, "Well, lad, that's your first expedition done. Now's the fun part- searching for loot."

They all laughed.

* * *

In the end, they had managed to unearth several valuable artifacts and they goblins at Gringotts were currently researching them and finding out the prices. Overall, it was a very successful journey. Harry never did tell them about the Seer, nor did he show them the orb he'd pocketed. For some reason, it felt personal and he didn't want to cheapen it by sharing it with others.

He was also disturbed by it. A woman who had seen most of the important events in history had told him he was the hardest to read. That worried him, but he decided to just ignore it. That always worked.

He had discovered that curse breakers could also work solo on domestic requests while they waited for the next big break, so Harry put himself on the list for available curse breakers. He was officially a curse breaker and the fact ensured a grin remained on his face for two days after the journey.

Harry also resolved to speak with Ginny at some point soon. He hadn't seen her in a little over a week and he had enjoyed their time out. Harry smiled as he left Gringotts and walked down the Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. Never once did his eyes perform the ingrained paranoid scanning of the crowds.

* * *

**A/N: This is the shortest chapter so far simply because I felt like Harry's first expedition and the Seer scene were important and needed to stand alone. This shorter chapter is pretty important. His next mission is domestic- and quite a bit more fun! And I mean curse breaking mission, not romance. As always, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! **


	5. Righting a Wrong

Harry was filling out his report his most recent job — a quirky fellow wanted to strengthen his wards with permission from the Ministry — when a loud knock on his door startled him. He wasn't used to having his own office. "Enter," Harry called.

The door swung open to reveal Bill, "Hiya, Harry. I have a job for you."

Harry frowned, "I've already done two domestic jobs, you never gave me those I just grabbed 'em from the bin. What's up?"

Bill grinned mischievously, "The Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, actually. I'm sure you know that my brothers run it."

Harry smiled warmly, "Yeah, Ginny told me all about it on our date. When do they need me?"

Harry dating Bill's sister had been an interesting point of tension between them, and while Bill did approve of Harry, he _was _still her brother and he had some brother code going there. If Harry was being truthful to himself he had to admit that it increased Harry's yearning for a family. For someone to be there and feel protective over him. Bill — after much grumbling — answered, "As soon as is convenient. It's late tonight so you'd be better off going tomorrow. George sounded pretty concerned, and to tell you the truth that's why I put you on this one."

Harry nodded, standing up. One of the best parts of the curse breaking job was that, when they weren't out risking their lives, the job wasn't very restrictive. As long as they took care of a few cases a month, they got to choose their own working hours.

"Bill, you know you can trust me. Your brothers will be fine," Harry had to admit was very curious about what George and Ron may need and looked forwards to finding out.

"I know, Harry, I know. Thank you for this one; if I took the job it'd be seen as favoritism and the goblins tend to frown upon anything of the sort."

Harry smiled, "No problem, Bill. Hey, also, could you talk to your sister and find out when she might be available next?"

To Harry's credit, he didn't run upon hearing Bill growl.

* * *

Harry smiled broadly as he entered the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes shop in Diagon Alley. The case file had requested him there though Harry knew they owned a Hogsmeade branch of the shop.

The place was as odd as Ginny had said it was: the building was divided into several different sections and each was radically different than the others. Ignoring the few people in the shop and avoiding distraction — a smart thing to do in this shop, he had been assured — Harry approached the front desk.

Before he could get a word in, the shop assistant, a young witch with blonde hair smiled half-heartedly, "Hi, how can I help you?"

Harry nodded, "Hi, I'm a curse breaker. I was hired to come here and speak with George."

Harry saw her eyes widen and her whole demeanor changed and an eager smile split her face, "Oh, yeah, they said you were coming today. I'll just go right up and get them, Mr. Potter."

Harry faked a smile and resisted the urge to sigh at her breathless tone– he was used to it. As he waited, he saw a kid walking to the door, "Hey, kid. You pay for that… whatever it is in your pocket?"

He grinned as the kid shot a foot into the air, "No, it's… I brought this from home."

"Right. Well, I'm sure that if that's the case I'm sure you won't mind waiting a minute until the assistant gets back here to confirm that," he finished, his grin widening. He couldn't fight off a small chuckle when the kid grumpily stalked back to his corner of the room. He turned back to the front to see the assistant from earlier and, standing next to her, a tall red-haired man who was grinning at him.

"You should have let him try and walk out– he was in for a massive… surprise."

Harry grinned back ruefully, "I almost regret it now,"

George nodded, "You can come back up with me. I've got a flat up here where we can talk in peace."

A short trip up some winding stairs later led Harry to a rather cluttered flat. For a man as wealthy as George likely was – owning two shops was not a small thing in the Wizarding Community – he really didn't have a nice place. Harry just figured it was convenient for him to live above the shop.

"Right, Mr. Potter, I need your services for breaking and resetting wards, but I am going to need a Magical Oath of confidentiality first."

Harry's eyebrows skyrocketed, "You understand that I don't necessarily have to give one, right? If there's something illegal going on I'm not supposed to put my foot in."

"Bill assured me you would give me one. If it helps, I can tell you that I've not actively engaged in law-breaking. Actually, to tell you the truth, I'm righting a wrong."

Harry frowned but he also knew that the Weasley family were a good crowd. He trust Bill and Ginny, who had both told him that George was a good person despite the loss of his twin. Hesitantly, he made his Oath.

"Alright, so I'm just going to come straight out with this: My idiot brother, Ron, has created a bit of a predicament. He's always been the more, ah, less work-inclined of us Weasleys. He has also simultaneously been completely jealous of our successes. He's smart but he doesn't put in as much effort as he could. If he didn't have Hermione as his girlfriend, he'd be liable to just sit on the couch and complain about how hard life is, I suspect," At this point, Harry was struggling to keep up with the agenda. George really could not stay on track.

"Anyways, our wealth has always been a particularly prickling thing for him, especially since he's been trying to get his own place and marry his girlfriend. Well, anyways, this finally culminated a few weeks ago when he sold some potions to a dodgy bloke. The area he sold it in was a barn near our home down in Ottery St. Catchpole. I'm afraid that this may come up in trial, the arrest of that bloke is very big because he'd sold those potions to the last free death eater."

Harry blanched. What were the odds that Harry would know exactly which barn he is and have performed the actual arrest of the guy selling the potions that Ron had sold. Not only that, but this was a serious crime which could land Ron in Azkaban for a very long time.

"Right, that's the look I was expecting. I want you to place a Fidelius Charm on that barn with me as the Secret Keeper. This is not well known as Fidelius Charms are rare but once the charm goes up and you forget the area, you forget pretty much everything that happened in that area. Not even Veritaserum will make you reveal it, as you genuinely can't. You see why this charm would be a lifesaver for Ron? I understand what I'm asking you to do may be wrong but Ron didn't do this with any malicious means– the prat just wanted some cash to buy a nice ring for his girl."

Harry sighed. Whatever he had been expecting of the job, it certainly wasn't this morally grey decision, especially since he was, in a way, connected to it. Harry nodded grimly, "Alright, you'll have it. But mind you this, if Ron has a little repeat of this business in any way I will take action myself. I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. I was one of the Aurors who apprehended them, I know exactly those potions were going to be used for. They were fucking lethal in high doses, George! It was revealed under Veritaserum that the nutcase had some harebrained scheme to poison several Ministry officials. That wasn't just getting some extra cash, Ron was involved in an assassination plot. Ironically, your father was a part of it! Ron could have inadvertantly killed Arthur, and that would have seen him killed or worse!" Harry was vexed. He felt somewhat bad taking it out on George, but he wanted him to understand how serious this was.

Harry had been told by his favorite Weasleys that George didn't take much seriously. Staring him directly in the eyes, though, Harry knew he was taking this seriously. Suddenly, though, as if pulled in by George's gaze, he felt flashes of a distant past and perhaps a far-away future. Two had become one and the one would become two. Fred would live again.

He blinked. That was odd– Harry was an accomplished Legilimens but he'd certainly not used it on George, or at least he hadn't tried to. George looked just as confused, "Something wrong there, Harry? Your eyes went all cloudy."

"Ah, sorry, haven't slept well the last few nights. Nightmares, sometimes. Anyways, when can you get to the barn? I think it'll be a good idea to get this over with as soon as possible."

George grinned, "I already let Cheri know that I'd be out for an hour or so. Let's go now."

* * *

A half-hour later saw Harry and George together in the old barn, Harry had drawn numerous runes around it. The Fidelius Charm was an extremely ancient and complex piece of magic and was not to be done lightly, as making a mistake could have severe consequences. It was also fairly ritualistic which put most people off. For some reason, most rituals were seen as taboo. Perhaps due to their complexity. Harry knew that many people feared what they couldn't understand.

Of course, Harry knew some rituals that would make people's blood curdle. While Harry was one of the first people to argue that a spell wasn't evil, it was how the spell was used, there were some rituals out there that just didn't have a good reason to exist.

"Alright, George, I'm going to need you to stand in the center here. I need to direct these runes' power into you as the Secret Keeper. It'll probably hurt," Harry teased. In truth, it didn't hurt, though it did feel enormously odd.

Harry waved his wand in an age-old ritual. In a matter of seconds a pale white light beamed from each of the runes and gathered in a space above George. With a downwards flick of his wand, Harry watched the Secret encompass George. He was sweating – the Fidelius took that much energy – but he managed a small smile, "Congratulations, George. The secret is yours to keep."

George chuckled, "That didn't hurt, were you just having me on?"

"Yeah, I was. I've been a Secret Keeper before. Anyways, I do believe you owe Gringotts a fairly large payment. Fidelius' don't come cheap. Especially since they're _illegal _without Ministry approval. I suspect the Ministry will be in an outrage trying to detect who did this over the next few days. They will of course fail. That's never stopped them before, though."

"I already made the payment, Bill took care of it. Ask him if you don't believe me."

Harry wished George the best and went home to Grimmauld Place. In truth, he was shaky. Not the Fidelius – that one took a lot, but it wasn't his problem. Harry had an odd feeling that today was more important than he knew. It was a forceful feeling that he couldn't ignore.

This thought was proved to be untrue as he collapsed on his bed. He didn't remember a thing about the feeling after he woke.

* * *

Harry smiled brightly as he started across the table at Ginny. He had managed to find time – not difficult, as Bill insisted he do so – to take Ginny on a second date. Harry suspected that Ginny had something to do with Bill's decision, but he wasn't going to complain. They had been drinking and catching up on what they had done in the last few weeks.

"Well, you know how Harmin… Herman… Ron's girlfriend was trying to get me to get a job, yeah? Well get this: some dotty old woman overheard us talking she offered to hire me to take care of her Kneazles. I mean, imagine me looking after a bunch of kneazles full time!" Ginny dissolved into drunken laughter.

Harry guffawed, suddenly glad that he had set up a Privacy Charm and Muffliato Charm around them. He wasn't sure if it was her good company or the copious amounts of alcohol, but Harry was in great spirits. "I don't know, Gin, I think you could… you'd be great for kneazles. They'd love you."

Ginny glared at him, "Now you sound like… like… her."

Harry grinned wider, "I think we need to," he paused as he hiccuped. "Er, we need to get you home."

Ginny nodded stood and dropped a few galleons on the table and giggled at some unheard joke. Harry mimicked her action, paying his share, before bringing her with him as they made their way out the pub. Harry had wanted to go to a muggle place but, despite her father's avid interest in all things muggle, Ginny had no idea what to do in a muggle environment so they had - read, Ginny had - decided it would be better to go to a Wizarding bar.

They went to the apparition point – in the alley next to the pub – and Harry smiled rather dumbly, "Tonight was good, Gin. Good fun."

Ginny smiled and hugged him tightly, "Yeah. Good fun," she stated. She leaned back and her eyes took on a hard blazing look before she pulled his head down to hers, angling their lips to connect. Not expecting this, he numbly stood there like an idiot before reacting. Harry had very limited experience with girls, but he knew what he liked, and kissing Ginny was undeniably fantastic. His passion grew as he felt her tongue demanding entrance to his mouth. Dimly he heard her moan.

Eventually, the need to breathe forced them to part. Harry grinned down at her and she tilted her head for a second. "Your place?"

Harry nodded and apparated them back to Grimmauld Place, the dangers of apparating when inebriated far from his mind. He had managed to land them in his bedroom and he pulled Ginny against him again, seizing her lips with his own. He had never really had passion of a lustful sort and, now that he felt it, it was intense beyond imagination. He barely noticed as he pulled her shirt off, his skin caressing the warm flesh of her stomach underneath. He was ravenous. He glared at her bra as if it could possibly understand, and she giggled again. He leaned down to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her neck and jawline.

As he did this his hand moved up caressed her breast, his thumb rubbing over the top of the material. he felt her hands reach and begin to undo his belt. This action acted as a bucket of cold water and, in an action that he knew he'd curse later, he grabbed her hand, "Hold on, Gin, just… just a sec," he whispered hoarsely. He waved his hand and two small black tubes with a stopper in it flew from his bedside table to his hand, "Drink this," he handed her one while he drank the other.

She did and the effect was immediate. He watched as her flushed face returned to normal slightly, "Oh, Harry, what is this?"

"Ah, I made it after the war. It an Inebriation Cure. Immediately removes any drunkenness," he informed her.

"Blimey, Harry, you could make a fortune with this," she gasped.

"Right, but I don't want or need it. I made it for myself."

After that moment of calm, Ginny looked down at herself and blushed before pulling her shirt back on. Harry smiled sadly, "I don't want our first time – if there is one – to be while we're drunk."

She looked grateful, "Thank you, Harry. Really. To be honest with you, I'd love to keep going, but Bill will be suspicious if I don't come home tonight. We'll have to arrange an overnight event some time soon," she finished this with a small smile.

Harry was relieved, he had been worried he'd blown it, "I'd love to, Ginny." He stood then, allowing her to sit up. He blushed when he noticed that he still had a very obvious erection. She grinned naughtily, leaning forwards, "Although, I don't think it would hurt if I just…" she trailed off as her hand yanked his belt free and slid into position around him. He groaned as she got into a rhythm that he firmly approved of. After a hazy few minutes, Harry finished with a grunt.

Harry pulled her to him, "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I know. Me too."

He smirked, "I don't believe I returned the favor, Miss Weasley,"

Her breath hitched, "No, I don't believe you did."

Harry thanked Merlin for skirts as he slid a hand up her thigh. It was only after she giggled that he noticed he had thought out loud. She was warm, so warm, and Harry thought he might burn. Finally his hand reached its destination and his eyes darkened with lust as he felt the evidence of her arousal. His hand greedily pulled her knickers to the side and he couldn't hold back a groan as his hands found her center. Her breathy moans served to spurn him onward.

Harry was not experienced when it came to matters of sex, but he was knowledgeable. Not only had he read a lot on the topic – quite embarrassing, but he didn't want to be incompetent – but he had been raised by Sirius Black. The man was a lot of things and very experienced in matters of passion was one of them. His fingers explored her completely, caressing her in all the right places. To his relief, it did not take longer for her to come undone. He had not thought that bringing her to orgasm would be so arousing but it was an undeniably satisfying thing to do. He watched her face closely as the last traces of ecstasy wore off.

After a few minutes of simply holding each other, Harry groaned again. "Ginny, we definitely have to arrange that overnight event soon."

She laughed, "I'll get back to you, Harry. Thank you, tonight was nice."

His eyes followed her longingly as she walked away. In that moment, something happened to him, something he couldn't quite understand, like a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Flashes of copper and crimson, of Harpies and of terrible pain.

Harry shook as he considered the implications of what he had just seen.

* * *

**A/N: I have to say that, of all the chapters of this I've written out so far, this was both my favorite and the hardest to write. Several important things happen here that changed the entire story. A lot hinges on this.**

**Also, if you catch the reference I put in here to a phenomenal piece of fanfiction you should let me know. I'll give you a virtual**** \- and therefore nonexistant - award. Still cool, though! I have one reader I am confident will catch it and you know who you are :)****Thank you all for continuing to read this, I am loving this story so far. I hope you guys are too! **


	6. The Mark of a Hero

Harry woke slowly, unwrapping himself from the warmth of his dreams. In them, he had seen Hogwarts. He had only seen it once in person and that was from a distance; in his dream, he had walked the halls. He had felt the history in those old stones. He had heard one of the countless lectures that had taken place and he had loved it. Harry had never been to Hogwarts but it felt like he knew it intimately– It felt like home. Then it had changed abruptly; darkened, became bitter. Suddenly, she was Red. She felt both physical and emotional pain as she learned the price. There was no justice in the world.

Shaking his head, Harry rolled out of bed. He grinned as he dressed, recalling the events of last night. Ginny was a gorgeous woman and he counted himself indubitably lucky to call her his girlfriend. His life had changed radically, a few weeks ago he was a bitter, withdrawn Auror. Powerful, sure, and celebrated, but there were times that Harry had thought being dead had been easier.

Only occasionally did he regret his decision to return to life and that had never lasted long. Regret was hard to carry and the odd thing about it was that he didn't need to. He'd carried it for so long that he had forgotten he could put it down. Harry could remember exactly when he decided to lay it down: when he became a curse breaker. When he broke his chains and decided his own course.

And he imagined his parents cheering him on from the next great adventure. It was this thought that kept him going when things got dark– that and Ginny. They didn't know each other all that well but it felt good to have someone wanting him to live– someone emotionally invested in his well-being. He liked to think that if he died she'd cry for him. It was childish, he knew, but it also felt good.

Now fully dressed, Harry headed to Gringotts. He had decided to pick up a job or two if he had time.

* * *

As soon as he entered the house he knew that something wasn't right. Harry could feel magic rolling off of someone in waves. He put his hand on the doorknob, his eyes turning left to the ashamed looking woman. "You lied on the contract," it was not a question.

She stood taller, "Yes. You don't understand, nobody would help. I had to," her voice took on a desperate tone.

"I know. You got lucky, Samantha. Anyone else you hired from Gringotts would not have been able to handle this alone," there was no arrogance in his tone. After he activated a protean charm, he pushed open the door with a grim feeling. He had extensive knowledge on the subject of exorcism but almost none of it was practical. He'd performed an exorcism only once and it was taxing.

The house was cold and yet somehow hot at the same time. He flicked his wand and several glowing orbs shot from it, latching onto the ceilings of the house. He didn't trust any other forms of light. The deception could be anywhere.

"Homenum Revelio," he whispered, nodding as the Charm did it's work. He nodded grimly as he was drawn to the cellar. This dark spirit clearly had an affinity for dark, cold places. The cellar was perfect for it. He traveled down the rickety stairs, not even trying to be stealthy; it knew he was here.

He waved his wand twice more, checking the door for traps. After a moment, he confidently pressed in, opening the door. Several things caught his eye: The smoky black fire in the fireplace, the rickety wooden chair in the corner, and the gaunt boy sitting calmly in it. His blond hair shone and his violet eyes burned with terrible knowledge.

"Are you the spirit or the child?" he inquired, shifting slightly, preparing for anything.

"Why can't I be both?" his voice was ancient and strong.

"Because you're a parasite. You want to be a child, you want to be alive, but you cannot. So you pretend."

"You are remarkably well informed," it finally stood from the chair. Harry sighed– he was not looking forward to the next part.

"Yes, I am. I know how to defeat you, I was trained well."

"Knowing how to do something and doing something are quite different, unfortunately. And I'm no weak spirit. I'm a Shade."

Harry calmly smiled, raising his wand. He needed a distraction, "_Expecto Patronum_." He didn't stop to watch as his falcon patronus started buffeting the Shade. He desperately perused the room, trying to find the link. Every Shade had a link that it used to possess a human. As this was a child, it needed to be something sentimental to a child.

He cast the Revealing Charm, hoping to find the link. Nothing happened. Before he could continue his frantic search he felt a wave of magic in the form of a conjured spear. He jumped to the left, hitting the wall.

Similar to House-Elf magic, Shade magic was quite different from anything that humans were capable of. Harry raised an eyebrow at the Shade; a small child holding a longsword was not something you saw every day. This Shade clearly had a fondness for medieval weaponry.

"_Reducto_," Harry shouted, his eyes still darting around the room desperately. He continued casting charms, desperately trying to ignore the fact that the Shade was simply deflecting them with his conjured blade.

He used a blasting charm on the floor in front of the Shade, throwing it back. It was then that he saw it, hidden away behind the black flames flickering in the fireplace: an old teddy bear. _Of course the bastard hid the link behind dark flames, _Harry realized.

The Shade link was indestructible, similar to a Horcrux. You had to draw the soul out of it where you could finally destroy it. Unfortunately, it knew this; it was hidden well. With a demon approaching him calmly, longsword drawn, Harry realized he had little choice. He did not have the ten minutes it took to safely remove dark flames. He had to act quickly. In what he knew he would remember as the single-most stupid decision he'd ever made, he cast a Numbing Charm on his left arm and grabbed the bear through the flames.

The Numbing Charm lasted for all of a second. He had suffered the Cruciatus Curse multiple times in his life but this was far worse and he knew it. He had barely yanked the bear from the flames when he was pulled into the Shade dreams.

"_Daddy's just late, love; he'll be here."_

_He never came home. Lost at sea, they had been told months later. It was only downhill from there. _

_Aurin watched as, piece by piece, his mother fell apart. She tried to display strength but he was a perceptive child; he knew she hated him. She hated that his father had gone to sea to provide for his family. He watched as they were kicked from their home, unable to pay._

_Aurin wanted to help. He only wanted his mother to love him. One dark, stormy night he bought it forth and offered himself to bring his father back._

_It had accepted readily, of course. But it was a lie– his father never returned._

Harry was pulled back to the present and he heard a sobbing. His hand and arm were burning still, but the teddy bear was gone, burned away by the intensity of the memories. With horror, Harry realized that the flames weren't dispelled when the demon was.

He knew what he had to do, but he didn't want to do it. He had done enough. Given enough– but it was too late. The pain was too strong, and he was barely conscious. Weakly, he raised his wand and quickly – before he could regret his decision – he muttered the Severing Charm. Normally, it would only cause a flesh wound. This was the Elder Wand, though, and it neatly sliced his arm off. It was followed quickly with healing charms– Harry may have lost his arm, but he wasn't going to die of blood loss. He hadn't come back to life to die to a Shade.

He slid along the wall, grateful he'd activated his Protean Charm before entering the house, Bill would be here soon to help. The last thing he noticed before unconsciousness was Aurin crying as his mother pulled him to her.

* * *

"_What is the mark of a true hero, Harry?" His mentor asked him._

"_The capacity to love," he responded confidently. His confidence was shattered when his mentor laughed._

"_Ah, listening to Albus again, hmm? No, that is wrong. Love is important but it can lead to evil as easily as it can to good. It is not the mark of a true hero. Guess again."_

"_Er... Bravery?" _

"_No, Harry, no! A hero must be willing to give anything, selflessly, for the sake of his cause. You can only know if someone is being a real hero when they have given up something dear to them. Self-sacrifice is the mark of a hero. Do keep in mind that one can sacrifice much without being a hero, but one cannot be a hero without sacrifice."_

_Harry frowned, "What did you give up, sir?"_

_His mentor sighed wistfully, "My freedom."_

* * *

Harry woke gradually. His eyes had barely opened before the events prior to his unconsciousness flooded back. He lifted his left arm but nothing happened. He laughed bitterly.

"You're a right git, you know that, Potter?"

Harry snorted, "And here I was expecting some comfort. I'm a cripple now, didn't you notice?" He tried – and failed – to keep the resentfulness he felt from his tone as he finished his sentence. Ginny was kind enough to ignore it.

"Bill is pissed at you, you know. Says you violated a ton of regulations not waiting until he got there. Of course, he's also incredibly impressed; he told me that it took incredible strength to kill the Shade."

Harry nodded, "Mainly willpower. I had to pull it's Shade-link from the dark fire to destroy it. The pain was… I don't even think I can put it into words. That was the hardest part. Destroying the bastard was the easy part."

She smiled, "Well, now that you're up I'll go let the Healer know. And Bill, he's anxious to speak with you. I'm sorry about the arm, Harry. Bill says he knows a guy about prosthetics."

Harry laughed, "I think I'm gonna look like Mad-Eye Moody before long, eh?"

Ginny laughed with him, "Blimey, you're right! You've got the scarred face and now missing limb. I'll see you later, Harry."

Harry waited till she left before he fell apart. Clearly his potions had worn off– his arm, or lack thereof, burned horribly. That wasn't even the worst part, though. Harry knew about prosthetics. Especially wizarding ones, they were incredibly advanced and, in ways, stronger than normal arms.

Still, he felt like he'd lost a huge part of himself. He would never be able to use magic with his left hand again. Something that had been intimately _his _for twenty years was now gone forever. He was interrupted by the door opening. A middle-aged woman in a bright green robe entered and following closely was Bill.

"Harry, you madman, what were you thinking?"

"I thought I could do it alone; well, I suppose I did, but…" He trailed off.

Before Bill could answer, the Healer stepped up and waved her wand around. After a moment, she nodded, "Alright, Mr. Potter, we've done all we can for you. I'm going to give you some Pain-Relieving Potions to take home with you but take them sparingly and only when the pain is debilitating. I don't want you back at work for at least a month, and that's _after _you get your prosthetic."

Harry nodded meekly and then glared at Bill when he saw him trying to hide his laughter. She left a small container of potions on his bed, shrunken to be easy to carry.

Bill spoke again, "Harry, you really did have all of us worried. We're a team and when one of us is hurt all of us is hurt," Harry felt a warm glow at this statement. It was almost like he had a family again.

"I really am sorry, Bill. I tend to do that– self-sacrifice. It's the mark of a true hero."

Bill looked at him quizzically before he spoke, "Oh, and by the way, you better buy Ginny something incredibly expensive and nice. You'll have a lot of groveling to do."

Harry frowned, "What do you mean? I just lost my bloody arm."

Bill grinned, "She owns you now, Potter. That's how girls work. But in all seriousness she _was _worried about you. She likes you, Harry. If she was a bit cross with you, that's normal. She's scared and she doesn't know how to react to it. She lost Fred in the war, she doesn't want to lose anyone else important to her."

Suddenly Harry felt guilty. He had thought he was doing the right thing with his self-sacrifice but now he realized it was selfish. He hadn't spared a thought for anyone other than himself and the child affected by the Shade. He had other priorities now.

And a lot of groveling to do.

* * *

_This feels so odd, _Harry thought for the tenth time. He was flexing his prosthetic arm, which was the same length as his old one. It was hooked up to his nerves and, for all intents and purposes, it was the same as his old arm. Everything felt the same, but he knew it was very different. For starters, he had immense strength with it. He had to learn to hold everything over again, lest his grip become too strong and break things. He had been particularly embarrassed when the man selling the prosthetic warned him to be extremely cautious during intercourse.

It wasn't bad, though. It was miles better than the abyss it had been before– he knew he would never have gotten used to there having nothing there. In a way it reminded him of Peter Pettigrew's hand. That thought made him a bit less eager, but he knew it was still good. _Hopefully mine won't attempt to kill me,_ he thought ruefully.

Harry rubbed his hand and counted down the minutes until Ginny arrived. He was nervous: she would be the first person to see him with his prosthetic. He couldn't exactly discern why he was nervous, but he was.

The floo flared to life about five minutes after it was supposed to and Ginny stepped out gracefully. Harry smiled eagerly, nerves bubbling up in his stomach. He stood, looking over the counter at her, "Hey, Ginny. How are you?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Just last week you were moaning to me about being a cripple."

Harry winced, "Right, sorry if I came off as a bit cross. It was a bit of a shock, y'know."

She glared at him, her eyes daggers, "Trust me, I know."

Harry sighed, "I'm really sorry about worrying you, Ginny. I just… It's how I was trained. I'm still getting used to having people back home for me."

She was not mollified, "How many years has it been since the War? Bloody hell, Harry, you'd think you'd be used to it!"

Harry flinched, as if struck. He was furious, _what right does she have to talk like that? _"It hasn't ended, Ginny! The War is my bloody life! Sometimes I don't think it'll ever fucking end and then I wake up and I wish I didn't; I know that's wrong and I have so much to live for but.. Merlin damn it all, I don't know," he ranted, pacing around the kitchen. He pressed his hands down on the counter, breathing in deeply.

He looked up after a few moments to see her staring wide eyed. Following her eyes he looked down at the counter-top. It had cracked under his left hand, collapsing in. In his anger he hadn't even felt it. He fell back into his chair and realized with not a little amount of shame that tears were running down his face. In a flash he felt her arms around him and he desperately leaned into her presence. The tears had finally broken free and, now that they had, he couldn't stop. She just held him quietly, whispering sweet nothings soothingly to him.

He had no idea how long it was before he was able to talk. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"It's alright, Harry, it's alright. We're here for you," she opened her mouth but paused, considering her words. After a moment her face took on a hardened look, "I'm here for you."

Harry didn't know what to say. That declaration brought with it an immense feeling of warmth and comfort he hadn't felt in a very long time. He pulled her down to him, kissing her passionately.

Before they had been drunk when they kissed and he wasn't sure it was as good as he had felt or if he was imagining it; now he knew. Kissing Ginny Weasley was a wonderful feeling. Ginny was comfort, a comfort he'd never known. Now that he had it, he craved it ravenously. His kiss deepened and he felt her moan into his mouth.

Harry made a decision. Gently – extremely gently considering his left arm – he lifted her in his arms, barely breaking their kiss to breathe, he carried her up the stairs. He laughed as he pushed open his bedroom door– she had somehow managed to pull his shirt off. It took him a moment to realise she had vanished it. He did the same to her blouse and found, much to his delight, that she had not worn a bra today. He groaned his approval as her hands ran down his back.

He brought his mouth down to her chest, kissing a rosy nipple. He marveled at its hardening. Ginny was a goddess, a form to be admired and he proceeded to admire her breasts quite thoroughly. Eventually, he moved on, pressing kisses down her body, smiling every time he heard her moan. He vanished the rest of her clothes and grinned up at her.

Sirius had been insistent that Harry 'treat his witch right in bed.' Harry had been mortified by these lessons but now, as he spread Ginny's knees and bared her to him, he was only grateful. He kissed up her thigh slowly, his gaze locked with hers. The dark brown orbs, so filled with lust, gave him the courage he needed to continue. He was completely inexperienced but her moans filled him with confidence and spurred him on.

Finally, he reached her center and he was tasting her. Her hands gripped his head as his tongue continued its' exploration. He circled her clit with his tongue, first gently. He had to fight off an arrogant grin when she moaned loudly and pulled him harder against her, losing control. He loved it when she lost control. He shifted slightly as his erection pressed uncomfortably against the bed. Slowly, lovingly, his fingers stroked her. He found her red curls incredibly sexy. He pressed his fingers inward, enjoying her gasp.

In the Auror Academy several young men his age had complained about going down on their girlfriends. Harry couldn't understand why; this experience was one of the best he could remember.

After a minute of attention, his tongue flicked against her clit again and she came. She pulsed against him, rocking her hips. The sexiest thing was her face, he decided. When and after she came, the look of pleasure on her face was almost enough to finish him off.

He pulled himself up beside her and licked his lips, smiling down at her. Suddenly he felt very shy, "How was it?"

She blushed even as she grinned, "I loved it, Harry. Thank you. But you, sir, are overdressed," she commented seductively.

"Y-yeah," Harry breathed as she vanished his trousers. He sighed, _We really need to stop doing that._

Any complaints about vanished clothing disappeared a moment later when Ginny's mouth closed over his tip. Her mouth was like nothing he had ever felt or imagined. Her heat mixed with his intense arousal had him racing towards the edge and he had to fight himself to avoid coming too quickly. His right hand came up to caress the coppery hair that he had grown to love.

She was tasting him and the thought of that was so erotic that he had to fight off thrusting into her mouth. She brought up her hands to stroke him as her tongue swirled around his tip and it did him in. He tried to warn her but he was beyond speaking, beyond most rational thought. After a moment, he was dimly aware of her swallowing.

He leaned back, panting as she slid back up his body and snuggled into his side. Once he was capable of speech, he spoke, "That was brilliant. Sorry I forgot to warn you."

Ginny smiled, satisfied, "That's alright, Harry. It wasn't bad at all."

He smiled, relieved. He just held onto her. It occured to Harry, holding her then, that he had finally begun to heal. He had been broken, but he had finally shed his tears and put the war behind him. He had such a long time left to live, and he realized that his heart yearned he live it with the woman beside him

He was falling in love with Ginny Weasley.

* * *

The sun beamed down on Harry as he walked the path to the Burrow's entrance. He was nervous; he had been dating Ginny for quite some time but the only member of her family that knew this was Bill. The Weasleys were holding a Sunday dinner and every brother of hers, even the distant Charlie, were in attendance. Today, Ginny decided, was the perfect time to tell everyone.

He moved the expensive flowers and chocolate under his arm and knocked on the rickety old door, smiling as he envisioned how this was going to go. Ginny assured him she'd open the door so he'd decided to surprise her.

The door was pulled open to reveal Ginny in her favourite sundress. Her eyebrow arched when she saw the flowers and chocolates, "Hey, Ginny. I wanted to get you something to show you my appreciation," he smiled, handing her the gifts.

He saw, over her shoulders, the expressions he'd been expecting. Arthur was smiling widely, Bill nodded in approval. Charlie just looked confused while George smiled fondly, though his eyes threatened pranks. Percy nodded stiffly, though he was smiling so Harry took it as approval. Ron didn't seem to care too much. Harry figured him helping keep him out of Azkaban must have raised his opinion somewhat. Harry nearly flinched as Molly squealed and pulled them both into a massive hug.

"How long has this been going on, dear?" she asked him once she had relinquished her hold.

"Oh, a month or two, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled in such a motherly manner that it made Harry yearn for his own, "Oh, dear, call me Molly."

By then, Arthur had reached them and patted Harry on the back, "Welcome, Harry. It's good to see you."

Harry felt full to burst with warmth. The Weasleys – at least, the ones he'd known – had always been kind and caring people. Though he didn't know any of them besides Bill and Ginny extremely well, they had been concerned for him. "Thank you, Arthur. I brought some muggle wine; I'm not sure if you guys have ever drunk it, but my godfather was quite fond of it and I have acquired a taste for it."

Harry was watching carefully and saw Arthur's eyes light up in glee at the word muggle. He may be Minister for Magic now, but he would never lose that childish excitement. Harry respected him even more for it.

Harry saw Molly looking at him awkwardly, "Is there something wrong, Molly?"

She blushed, "Oh, it's just that when I was hugging you… your arm," she finished weakly, mortified at being caught staring.

Harry smiled in understanding, "Oh, I forgot that nobody really knows about that. I was injured at work due to a rather foolish mistake I made. It's a prosthetic."

Her eyes filled with pity and Harry almost groaned. Ginny grinned at him, "She'll be coddling you forever now," she whispered in his ear.

Harry's eyes widened at the thought. For some reason, he knew he wouldn't mind. "Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. I knew that job was dangerous," she stated, glaring at Bill.

Bill groaned, "Mum, Harry himself admitted that it was a mistake he made."

Harry nodded solemnly and Molly waved his complaints aside, "You should get a nice safe job– you boys have done enough," she finished sadly. Harry couldn't disagree but he knew he'd never be content with a safe desk job. Bill smirked knowingly, "I'm glad I'm not the only one now, Harry."

Harry sighed dramatically but in his heart he knew that he enjoyed it, having someone in a mother role to care for him. Molly Weasley was a wonderful woman.

"Oi, Red, how'd you bag the Boy-Who-Lived?" George called with a cheeky grin. Harry and Ginny both smirked when Molly cuffed his ear.

Dinner proved to be a fantastic affair. It took Harry some time to adjust to such a raucous event but, when he did, he found he enjoyed himself immensely. Ginny had been a great help in deflecting questions when they became too much.

Eventually, it was almost time to finish up. Near the end, George stood, "Family, I have an announcement to make."

Everyone looked up sharply at his tone: he was serious, a very rare and potentially dangerous thing. "Angelina wanted to be here with me when I said this, but she's busy tonight. Anyways, we, uh… She's pregnant. We're having a child."

For a second, silence dawned. Only a second though. Molly's gleeful cry split the night and the next few minutes were a blur of congratulations and excitement.

George raised his hand, asking for silence, "It's a boy, we already know. We decided that we're going to name him Fred," he finished chokingly. Tears welled up in his eyes.

He wasn't the only one; Molly and Arthur's eyes both grew misty and the Weasley children moved to hug George. Through all of this, Harry sat deadly still.

_The two had become one and the one will become two.  
_

* * *

**A/N: Poor Harry! I just had to maim him, didn't I? I did this for a few reasons: Firstly, you might remember I said in chapter two "Sometimes you even have to break things further to fix them." That was indeed foreshadowing :)**

**Secondly, I think having a metal prosthetic would be cool. I was considering making this a way bigger deal, like having physical therapy and such but, frankly, it's not like he lost too much. His new arm is basically the same thing but its metal and stronger and he can't use magic with it. The only thing he has to be careful of is his grip, and even then, I like to imagine if these prosthetics existed they'd have a sensor and stop before he grips something too hard. He still has a full range of touch in it. He can feel anything, similar to how you could, though he wouldn't be able to feel temperature or pain. Honestly, if you look at it in a certain light, it could be seen as an upgrade. I wouldn't go chopping my arm off for it, though!**

**As always, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
**


	7. Realisations

_The two had become one and the one will become two._

But that wasn't necessarily true now. The one was becoming two. A realization struck Harry and with that realization came clarity: He had seen the Two, he had been Red. _Why is this power mine?_

Harry was scared. He realized that he was staring like an idiot and plastered a shaky smile on his face. It became more natural as he allowed himself to think. _What does it matter? I'm still me. Most of the time, at least._

He smiled and stood, approaching George. "Congratulations, mate."

George swooned theatrically, "Oh, I'm a friend of The Boy-Who-Lived!"

Everyone laughed and Harry joined them. It felt good to laugh. He felt slender arms wrap around him from behind and tilted his head to see Ginny, "Hey, Gin."

She smiled at him. He loved her smile, "Harry, dinner's over. You're going home, right?"

"That was the plan, yeah. Why?"

"Well, Bill is busy with a new girl he picked up and I suspect that he will not be home tonight," she informed him.

Harry was confused for all of two seconds, "You mean… Oh, oh! Uh, you do mean what I think you mean, yeah?"

She leaned up and whispered into his ear, "I mean exactly what you think I mean."

Harry felt an off mix of both nervousness and eagerness. Would he be enough? This was a big moment. He was pulled from his thoughts by Molly.

"Harry dear, are you're sure you're alright on your own? I know Sirius left you his house but it was never very cheerful, was it?"

Harry smiled sadly, "It took some adjusting but I'm fine, Molly. The home is a lot better now that Kreacher started cooperating."

"Alright, but if you need anything you can always come around," she told him. Harry was floored by her genuine caring– Molly Weasley was a wonderful woman.

She seemed to understand that he couldn't speak and just patted him on the shoulder and shuffled away. Harry was mortified to find he had tears lurking in his eyes. Blinking furiously, he turned to Ginny. He could see clearly in her eyes that, at the moment, Ginny was proud to be a Weasley.

The other Weasleys had all left or were wrapped up in the merriment. He clasped Ginny's hand in his and they walked to the garden and down the path. The home, being the Minister for Magic's residency, had a large amount of wards around it.

Their pace quickened and they shared a look. Harry couldn't stop a chuckle as he realized they were acting like a pair of randy teens. Harry had never been allowed to act that way– he was going to take full advantage of it now.

The last thing Harry heard before apparating was her joining him in laughter. They reappeared in his bedroom and she stopped laughing. Being in the room made it more real. Harry was hit with a sudden bout of nerves, "Ginny, we don't have to–"

"I want to, Harry," Ginny interrupted, "It's just my first time."

Harry arched his eyebrows, "Really?" She glared at him and he tried desperately to backpedal, "Er, not that there's anything wrong with that it's just, well, you're a beautiful girl. I'm surprised. For the record, I haven't either."

It was Ginny's turn to be surprised, "What? Surely you're having me on. You're Harry Potter," she blurted out.

Harry's smile didn't reach his eyes, "Not a lot of dating opportunities during the War, and after, well, I wasn't much in the mind for that."

She hugged him, earlier nerves gone; they were in this together, "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. So we'll learn together, yeah?"

Harry grinned, "Always." The word was almost magic and it brought them together tighter. Harry kissed her deeply, his tongue playing with hers.

He groaned as she nipped on his lower lip. In a blur of deep kisses and pulling clothes, they wound up on the bed. Harry once again – he didn't think he'd ever be able to stop – wondered how something so gorgeous could exist.

His hand found her breast and gripped it firmly, thumbing her puffy nipple, smiling in wonder as it hardened. He barely heard her groan as he leaned down and brought it into his mouth.

His hand trailed lower until it slid past her red curls, finding her wet and warm, and he began to rub her clit. She moaned and gripped him in her hand, growing wetter as he teased her.

A few minutes later she spoke, somewhat hoarsely, "Harry, I'm ready. Please… oh, put it in."

"Are you sure?" He wanted to give her one final chance to back out.

"Bloody hell, yes, get to it!" she scolded.

He laughed but rolled over nonetheless, pressing in. Immediately he was encased in tight, warm wetness. He rocked against her immediately, barely able to control his own actions. He looked to her eyes and remembered that this was supposed to be painful. He waited, though it was incredibly hard to control himself, for her pain to clear.

He saw light glinting from his left arm and realized he was pressing rather harshly into the bed. He tried to control his movement with it and prayed fervently that he didn't destroy the bed or hurt her with it. That'd be both mortifying and terrible.

He gasped when she rolled her hips; in his worry he had been distracted. Now, he stared down to see her staring up at him, passion in the beautiful brown orbs that were Ginny Weasley's eyes. He thrust and smiled as she moaned, now more comfortable. She had given herself to him and he had given himself to her. They were learning together, becoming one in the most beautiful way.

They soon found a rhythm and maintained it. Harry was nervous about how quickly he was approaching climax; already, heat was pooling inside him. He wanted this time – their first time – to be fantastic, so he reached down, desperately rubbing her clit.

Belatedly, he noticed that she'd grabbed his back and clawed at him. It would hurt later but now it only served to spur him on. Ginny moaned loudly and he felt her clench tightly around him, drawing him in, and Harry exploded. Time seemed to stand still as he emptied himself inside her, completing what he was now certain was the best experience of his life.

A few moments later, he slumped to the side, pulling Ginny into his arms. They were both breathing rather heavily, but Harry still managed to speak, "That was– Merlin, Gin, if it's like that every time I might as well retire now because we're staying here. Forever."

She laughed breathlessly and he joined her. The small part of Harry that had been worried that this would change things died as he did so. They were just as good as ever, if not better.

* * *

Harry's eyes opened to weak light filtering through the windows. It was very early but before he could ponder why he had awoke he felt remembered.

_She was happy, so happy, when she flew. It was the only time she'd really ever felt free. Her broom twisted upwards sharply, her fingers reaching out to nimbly catch the Quaffle. Quick as a bullet, she psyched out the Keeper and had the ball through the defenseless hoop._

_She turned to her team, watching their victorious grins that matched her own; unfortunately, she didn't hear the Bludger that was zooming towards her. It slammed directly into her back, throwing her from her broom. The pain was so immense that she was knocked out almost instantly._

_Dull brown eyes opened to a sterile room. Time blurred; the next few weeks were a trial; first, she learned that her injury was too severe for her to risk playing Quidditch again. Wizarding medicine helped somewhat but her spine would always be too weak for her to safely play Quidditch. Then she faced her families coddling, and her mother's insufferable 'I told you so' gaze. She had never said anything of the sort, of course, but Ginny knew that it was what she felt._

_And all Ginny felt was… empty._

Harry barely managed not to gasp as he was pulled from the memory– _her memory_, Harry realized, as he gazed down at his lover. He slowly extricated himself from her hold, fighting the urge to vomit. He pulled on a pair of boxers and left the room, traveling up the stairs further than he had gone in years.

After the War he had sworn he would never use it. Even as he finished the steps, he was debating it. But it was a vain debate because his decision had been made the moment he had invaded her private memories.

He pulled open the door to the room and waved his wand. The next fifteen minutes were spent going over wards on a hidden door, most of them illegal. Once it was finished, he pulled the door open and closed it softly behind him. It was a small, simple room with a desk against the far wall. Upon it laid a soft, dark cloak. Harry approached the desk and removed the tiny black stone within.

He walked to the center of the room and turned it three times. Immediately his mentor appeared. It was his mentor as Harry had only known him from the history books. It was his mentor in his prime; a tall, intimidating man with mismatched eyes.

"I thought I asked you not to bring me back," his mentor stated.

"You did," Harry agreed.

"You've done me proud, kid." he finally smiled.

"Thank you, Gel." Harry felt genuinely pleased– in life, his mentor gave him very little credit. In death, it seemed, he was a kinder man.

"But that's not why you're here," he stated yet again in that calm, almost serene, tone.

"Did you know that I had it? The Sight?" Harry requested of him.

"I did, from the moment I laid my eyes on you. Takes one to know one."

Harry nodded, "And there's no way to get rid of this?"

His mentor raised an eyebrow, "You want to get rid of the Sight?"

"I've seen enough, old friend." And he had. Harry didn't like this pervasive power, he didn't want the responsibility. He knew what responsibility did to people.

"That you have, lad. I wish I could tell you different, but no, you will have to live with this. It becomes easier to control as you get older, that much I can say. By the time of my death it was immensely easy and never invasive to others unless I wanted it to be."

Harry smiled, "Thank you for everything. I promise you I will never bring you back, on my magic."

His mentor returned his smile, gentler in death than he ever he had been in life, "Thank you, Harry. You've done exactly as I had wished. I wish I had had your wisdom. Now, though, I must return to the place I was. We'll have to catch up when you join me, alright?"

Harry nodded, tears in his eyes, as he dropped the stone onto a cushion in the middle of the room. Gellert disappeared immediately, never to be seen in this life again. He knew he would miss him– the wisdom the man, in his repentance, had imparted upon him would never leave him. It had saved his life multiple times over.

Harry had come up here to say his goodbyes. Grimly, he seized the stone once more and twisted it… and found himself staring into deep, green eyes. His eyes watered as he saw his mother and father standing side by side, as together in death as they had been in life.

"Mum. Dad," He said, his voice breaking.

"Oh, Harry, we're so proud of you, love."

"Your mother is right– so proud, son. You've exceeded our expectations."

"Oh! And Ginny is so perfect for you. I'm so happy," his mother was crying now, silver, transparent tears.

"I love her," he realized out loud.

"Of course you do, you great git," His father laughed.

"I just wanted… I needed to say goodbye," Harry told them, knowing the longer he talked the more tempting it would be to never let go.

"I know, son. We're both so happy for you; but this isn't goodbye. We will see you again," His father assured him gently. His mother was too tearful to speak.

"I love you," he told them as he let the magic drawing them to this plane end.

The next were the hardest. He tried – and failed – to stifle his tears when Sirius and Remus appeared, both wearing grins.

"What the fuck did I tell you, kid? You kicked Voldy's arse and got a girl." Sirius grinned.

"Merlin! Sirius, Remus, I missed you guys."

Remus smiled, "We know. We've missed you too, Harry. We're so happy for you." His smile faded, though. "Dora didn't… She's not dead, but she's not alive, either. We can't see her. What happened?"

Harry winced, "Remus, I'm so sorry. After you died she went crazy and fought way too many of them at once. She was tortured into insanity, Remus. I'm so, so sorry."

Transparent tears collected in his eyes, "I can only wait until she joins us. Thank you for telling me, Harry."

"Anyways, guys, I'm not coming back here. I'm leaving the Hallows here, sealing it away even from myself. I wanted to say goodbye."

Sirius smiled sadly, "But this isn't goodbye, Harry. We'll see you again."

Harry grinned, "Dad said the same thing. Thank you all for everything; I love you guys."

He let the stone drop, not trusting himself to relinquish control of it if he heard their responses. He would see them again but it still hurt immensely to say goodbye. It helped, though, and he knew it had to be done.

Harry placed the stone back in the desk, running his fingers along the Cloak one last time. He pulled the Elder Wand from his pocket reluctantly. Of all the Hallows, this one was the hardest to part with. It had saved him many times over and it was bloody powerful. But he couldn't be corrupted, he wouldn't be beaten. He laid it gently upon the Cloak, mentally thanking the Hallows for all they had done for him. He left the room and sealed it the door, adding a few new wards he had learned over the past few months. He had set the old wards - with the Elder Wand - to return in half an hour. He would never be able to penetrate those, nor would anyone else. The cycle was broken.

He smiled as he stepped down the stairs quietly. He may have just laid down the most powerful magical tools in existence, but he felt lighter. Stronger than before he'd went in. He arrived at his door, smiling as he pushed it open. He took a few minutes to simply stare at the beauty that was Ginny.

He removed his boxers and slid into bed, basking in her warmth as he again tugged her into his arms. _Better than any Hallow,_ were his last thoughts before sleep took him.

* * *

When he woke the second time it was to a quiet giggle. At some point during his sleep he had spooned Ginny. He grinned down at her as his erection pressed into her bum.

"Morning, lover," he said quietly.

She smiled, turning over and kissing him, "Hi."

He stared into his eyes and came to a realization, perhaps the most important one of his life. He'd known when he had talked to his parents and relinquished the Hallows that morning but it hit him like a bludger now, "I love you."

He tried not to grin as her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, "You do?" she asked in a small voice.

"Of course I do. I had to do something hard recently, give something up, and I realized then that you were the one for me. I know it."

He did grin when she squealed, pressing herself to him tightly and kissing him deeply, "I've been waiting to hear you say that!"

Their kiss soon turned passionate and she mounted him. For the second time he felt her warmth encase him; this time it was different, though. It was slower, more gentle and loving. He enjoyed this way far more.

When they were finished, Harry stared into her eyes, "Remember how I said I'd retire if it was always that good? We just did better. Lock the door, love."

She laughed and Harry felt freer than he could remember. Love had changed him like it changes everyone; even Gellert had been changed by love in the end. Harry had seen it in his eyes when he summoned him forth from the dead. He hoped Dumbledore and Grindelwald were happy, even if he had been fairly freaked out when he'd heard of their past.

_Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley,_ he whispered in his mind, tasting the words. He liked them.

* * *

Eventually, they had to wake up, though, much to their consternation. To make up for this, Harry had Kreacher cook up some fantastic breakfast. He was embarrassed when Kreacher made a show of appraising Ginny before determining she was a 'proper mate'. Ginny had just laughed.

After a fine breakfast, Ginny had to leave and Harry realized he was bored. He wasn't allowed into work and he knew that Bill – fearing Ginny – would uphold that suspension. He was annoyed because he absolutely did not need a month to recover. He had taken massive steps towards recovery today, and Harry knew it would only be time from here. He had everything he needed. It was just his past that he needed to put behind him.

His metal fingers tapped the counter in front of him as he thought about this. Harry had a lot of demons– several times he had used dark magic, murdered in the sake of his cause. He didn't regret doing it, he firmly believed it was the right thing, but he wished he hadn't been forced to. The worst part was not being able to tell anyone. Alleviate it.

But he could. Harry could write his experiences. Even if no one saw them, it wouldn't be his burden anymore. Eagerly he snatched an ink and quill as well as some parchment. He wanted to be free of these demons. Closing his eyes, he sunk into his memories. It was not difficult seeming as his mind was meticulously organized.

* * *

_He was fifteen and scared. His foolish impulses – Gellert despised them – had led him here. He couldn't lose Sirius, not on top of everyone else; unfortunately, Sirius had never been here. Harry knew that the Aurors were near and, any second now, Aurors and Order members would help._

_Unfortunately, the waiting game wasn't enough. "Ah, there you are, Potter!"_

_He spun, terror in his eyes. A tall man wearing the Death Eater garb and mask stood there, wand in hand. Before Harry could even think, a blasting curse had flown from his wand. Harry had been drilled repeatedly on strategy in battle and his instincts and reactions had been sharpened to a razor point. The Death Eater was torn to shreds such was the power of the blasting curse. Crimson mist spread outwards from his body as it flung itself backwards._

_Twenty minutes later the Order found him there, covered in blood and sobbing near the unidentifiable corpse. Harry never did find out who it was he'd killed that day._

* * *

_He was surrounded, exhausted, and out of options. Remus and he were going to die if he didn't act. Harry hated dark magic; it was, without a doubt, terrible. Not evil, necessarily. No spells were evil, it was the wizards and witches who used them that determined if they were good or evil._

_Terrible though. Harry spun, calmly reciting an incantation, "Protego Diabolica."_

_Dark black flames spread up in a circle around him. Harry felt power thrum from him as he gracefully moved his hands, almost conductor-like. But this was no music; it was a symphony of death. The black flames roared outwards, latching onto any who meant him harm and turning them to ashes like they had never existed. Human lives, people who lived and loved, ended in a blink of an eye._

_Dark magic was a terrible thing._

* * *

Harry continued to write. And write. Before long, he had rolls of parchment filled. It was liberation, pure and true. Harry had never felt as free as he did writing those tales out. It was as if he was physically lifting a weight off his back.

Night fell, and Harry knew how to spend his month of suspension. He had barely broken the iceberg on tales he wanted to write. He kept it safely under lock and key in the corner of his room. They were for his eyes only, and yet still it felt like sharing his story. He couldn't help but remember this morning, though. His vision of Ginny, being her, feeling her pain and sadness. Maybe writing would help her, too. He'd be sure to suggest it.

She had been one of the Dumbledore Army leaders, he'd heard. Perhaps she could write about her experiences in the War, bring awareness. And maybe get some things off her chest. Harry grinned as he realized he may have a fantastic suggestion as to a career for her.

* * *

**A/N: And I'm almost done with this story. I never really meant for it to be long, in truth, it wasn't even this long until I expanded upon the original plot. This story has always been about Harry's recovery from post-war; he's been broken, and now he's being fixed. Another chapter or two left, still debating whether to split them up or keep it together. Also, should I include an epilogue- years in the future type deal, or leave the ending up to your imaginations? Let me know!**

**Thank you all for reading- I hope you enjoyed! :)**


	8. Releasing the Past

_The room was dark. Here were the last of the old guard, the last of the inner circle. Voldemort had fallen, but these men had escaped._

"_We cannot afford to fight the system, Rodolphus. We have lost, the Dark Lord is dead!"_

_The man, Rodolphus, spat, "You always were a coward, Lucius. The Dark Lord wasn't defeated the first time, you know he isn't dead now!"_

"_I watched as his soul was torn out, Rod; I watched him scream as he was burned to death. It was Dark Magic, you fool. I saw what Potter did to my son."_

"_How dare you?"_

"_Calm down, both of you. Yes, we have no proof the Dark Lord is truly dead, but Lucius speaks the truth. We cannot afford to seek him out, even if he lives, for we will be killed. What use are we dead?" Antonin Dolohov asked._

_The last member of the survivors spoke up now, "I agree. We are of no use dead."_

_Walden Macnair looked up, but as he smiled at them, he changed. His tamed brown hair turned to spiky black and his sharp face turned young and unblemished._

"_Or, I should say, you are of no use dead," I continued, unperturbed by the several wands pointing at me. Three different spells shot out and three different spells were deflected._

_I raised my wand, pointing it directly at Lucius Malfoy. A bright blue light shot out and neatly severed his throat, "Just like your son; or, like he would have been, had I aimed a bit lower," as I spoke I moved deftly backwards, maintaining a shield. I never felt more alive than I did when in battle._

_Rodolphus and Dolohov were throwing spells with no consequence. I waved my arm in an almost casual manner, watching with satisfaction as they died screaming. Much to my horror now, I enjoyed watching them burn._

_At the time, I had shivered at the thought. What was I becoming? I had enjoyed killing them. That was when I knew I needed help. I was broken._

* * *

"_Gellert, this is wrong," I had protested._

"_It is," Gellert agreed._

"_Er... Than why are we doing it?"_

"_Once, a long time ago, I would've said for the greater good. Now, Harry, I say this: to win. We have to win, what are the alternatives? A Wizarding Britain ruled by fear and evil?"_

"_I suppose you're right but… this is wrong," I protested weakly._

"_You're right, dear boy, you're right. But it must be done."_

_I nodded resolutely and we entered the small house. We weren't seen until we reached the kitchen. The woman was struck by a jet of green light before she could raise the alarm. Grindelwald sighed. I simply stared ahead resolutely– I remember being afraid my nerve would break if I looked. This was different, this was murder. I pushed forwards, up the stairs…_

_And came face to face with Rabastan Lestrange. Rabastan had barely gotten his wand out before he was thrown back by a sickly green light. I may not have agreed with the mission, but it was a mission, and I had been trained well– reaction was key, and the first few seconds of a duel were usually the deciders of the outcome._

_Of course, a killing curse to the chest was pretty decisive. I just stared down at the corpse with a detached look. It always hurt me worse that I didn't particularly mind killing these people. I was – and still am, sometimes – worried about becoming a murderer, one who reveled in it, but I know now that that my fear was exactly what keeps me from becoming dark._

_I continued on, Grindelwald close behind me, nodding at the corpse, "Rabastan was a particularly evil one. He will not be missed."_

_The house was bright and happy which clashed dramatically with the sort of people who now lived here. A light purple colour lined the walls and several paintings of nature hung upon the wall. I know that it was likely the Death Eaters' favourite tactic of breaking into houses, killing the occupants, and seizing the home as a base. Gellert himself admitted to using this tactic during his rise. I had this thought confirmed when I saw a family portrait at the end of the hall. I recall stifling a sob when I saw the family had had a little girl. Bastards. _

_It didn't make this task any easier. I had arrived at a door at the end of the hall and quietly opened it. They didn't deserve the bright pink room– it was a happy room, far different than anything they were worthy of. The little girl, Gellert had informed me her name was Delphini, didn't deserve what she was going to get. _

_I stood to the side and turned my soulful emerald eyes to Gellert, "I can't. You have to. I know we're not killing her but this – kidnapping her, a defenseless little girl – is just as bad. She'd never know love with them but she certainly won't know it with us. She's going to be a bloody bargaining chip. One that won't fucking work, and then what do we have? Someone to kill. A fucking baby to kill."_

_Gellert just nodded, "Good. Keep that part of you, lad. I wish I had."_

_I couldn't stifle my sob then. Gellert patted my shoulder sorrowfully. To my shock, I recall his eyes were somewhat tear-filmed as well. It didn't stop him from doing what we had come for._

* * *

_Diagon Alley was a sad place those days. Not a smile in sight, even on the normally energetic youth. Snow flitted lightly through the sky and the bitter and fresh cold air kept me awake and alert. I had a mission to watch Diagon Alley. The Order was expecting an attack any day now._

_But it was hard to keep alert with all the beautiful women around. I had only ever dated Lucy and the ending to that relationship had nearly destroyed me. I never intended to pursue these women, I had a task after all: the defeat of Voldemort, and it would only put them at risk if I did managed to date any of them._

_But it couldn't hurt to look, and look I did. I defend my actions: I was still a teenager, after all. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your perspective, one of them caught me perusing and smiled. I grinned back, somewhat bashfully, and she sidled up to me._

"_Hi there. What are you doing here around this time of year?" she asked, and I couldn't help but be entranced. To this day I recall it– she had a beautiful voice that held a slight Spanish accent. Her dark, wavy hair with flakes of snow mixed in just added to the affect. She was angelic._

"_Oh, just looking around. Getting some early Christmas shopping done. I could ask you the same thing; Hogwarts is still in session, if only for a few more days."_

"_I'm from Beauxbatons, we get off earlier. I live in Spain with my mother for all of my holidays except Christmas. I live with my dad here in England for that," she informed me, somewhat breathlessly. _

_I had smiled, thrilled that she was talking to me, "It must be hard to swing back and forth so much, even if you spend most of your time at Beauxbatons."_

_She nodded, "It is, but I love both of my parents and my poor father loves our time together. I get him a great gift every year."_

"_What are you thinking on getting him this year?" I had asked, embarrassingly desperate to continue the conversation._

_Her eyes lit up, "I saved enough to get him a broom! He loves flying and I do too, so we're going to fly together."_

_I'd grinned, very excited to have found a common link between us. Quidditch really brought people together. Unfortunately, an explosion rang through the Alley. I pushed in front of her, wand drawn, without thinking._

"_That came from near Gringotts, My father is there!" she yelled, panicked, and shoved past me._

"_Bloody hell, don't!" I had cautioned. Even then I knew it was a hopeless cause. I had started to run after her but a blue spell flew from a side alley and cut down a bystander. I spun without thought, pure reaction causing an orange spell to fly from my wand a slam into the caster. I grimaced as it struck home, slamming them into a wall. A trail of blood followed their path as they had slid down it._

_I continued on my way, dispatching two more Death Eaters. It was then that I had seen Elphias Doge go down under spellfire from four different Death Eaters and jumped in, throwing blasting curses towards them. Two didn't get shields up in time but the other two were quick to deflect._

_I begun traded spells with them, mentally groaning as I realised they worked well as a team. Eventually I managed to hit the smaller one with a severing charm, watching in grim satisfaction as they collapsed. It could be lethal with enough power._

_The taller one, obviously a male, shouted and threw a killing curse at me. Dodging, I responded with the Sectumsempra curse, eyes widening when it removed his head. That was not something I expected to occur. I had never angled it that way before, and had no idea what to expect._

_Numbly, I heard the sound of portkeys activating. All of the Death Eaters, both fallen and standing, disappeared. The Order had petitioned to the Ministry to set up Anti-Portkey wards around Diagon Alley but they had never acted. Now, I had hoped, they would. I strode across the wreckage of the Alley angrily looking at the damage. Several buildings had collapsed and more were burning. Much wailing could be heard._

_I remember the next moment vividly, though I would much rather forget. I saw almost immediately the beautiful dark-haired girl he had spoken to before cradling a middle aged man, both soaked in blood, "We were going to fly together! Don't leave!" she sobbed._

_The beautiful white snow was turning red. I could already tell that the man she was cradling – her father – was already dead. _

_I had strode away angrily, tears trailing down my face. How many more would lose their lives in this struggle? No, I had known I needed to end it soon._

'_We were going to fly together!' is something I have never stopped hearing. Her beautiful voice so filled with grief still haunts my dreams sometimes._

* * *

_I politely sipped some of the horrid tea that Gellert had made. All these years living here and he had never learned how to make a good cup. I was used to it enough to avoid grimacing._

_Sirius smiled at me as if reading my thoughts. He was good at that. I smiled back– tea excluded, everything was perfect. _

_Too perfect, I should have realized. Not ten minutes later blasts and cries of terror rang out. I had looked up, startled, and saw Gellert nodding calmly. _

"_The time has come, Harry. You and Sirius, go." Gellert ordered, sounding more peaceful than I had ever heard him. It took me a long time to realise that he had wanted this confrontation. He lived a long tragic life and his final redemption had come._

"_Gel, you can't mean…" I trailed._

"_I do. It's time, son. I have loved you like my own, Harry. You will win this fight and you will live. You remember everything I've taught you and you keep your heart and you live." Gellert rushed, and I knew that his words were true._

"_I will, Gel, I will," I barely choked out._

_Sirius just grabbed Harry's arm, "Remus is back at Grimmauld Place, kid. Let's get going."_

"_Wait! What about Lucy?" I had cried. Love was naïve and I will always regret what came next._

_Sirius smiled sadly, "There's no time, Harry."_

"_Don't patronise me! I won't lose her, I can't!" I still recall the desperate tone my voice had become._

_Sirius groaned, "Alright, we'll go check on her and try to get her family out."_

_We had rushed from the house disillusioned. To my horror I saw Voldemort and his lackeys approach the house. Gellert would go down fighting, I had thought at the time. I was right__–__ Voldemort had been the only one to escape the house alive, and he was scarred from the incident._

_I ignored the acrid smell of fire and the screams. Following a well-known path, I eventually arrived at Lucy's house– or what was left of it. The door wasn't even there anymore and I had seen several areas where blasting curses had struck it._

"_Oh, kid, I'm so sorry," Sirius moaned but I'd barely heard it. Ignoring common sense and Sirius' warning cries, I ran into the house. Lucy's parents were dead, I could tell immediately. Blood stained the floor under them. I trudged into the kitchen to see Lucy nude and hanging from the ceiling, strips of flesh torn from her body. I would have pulled her down and cradled her in my arms but I had heard Sirius cry to me from outside. _

_I ran from the house just in time to see a jet of green light slam into Sirius. I stepped forward numbly– how was this possible? My ignorance and insistence that I see to Lucy killed Sirius. And she was dead anyways._

_Sirius is dead. This repeated itself like a mantra in my head. This heightened my fury and, in doing so, my strength. I barely remembering hearing myself say the words, "Protego Diabolica."_

_I had smiled as I watched Sirius' killers burn, turning to nothing. Nothing was what they deserved._

_The night continued in much the same manner, and I finally lost track of my carefully counted kill list. I had remembered the number, twenty-nine, before. Throughout all the War I never wanted myself to become so jaded that I would not even care to those I had killed. But I had. It felt good to kill these people, the people who had deprived me of his parents. Of Gellert and of Sirius. _

_That attack had proven to be a catastrophic loss to the Death Eaters' forces and a turning point in the War. I only wish it hadn't been of such a cost._

* * *

Harry leaned back in my chair. It had been a long two weeks, and many memories had been written, but finally he was done. He hadn't even written them in any specific order, he simply wrote what came to mind. It was immensely therapeutic for him. He would, of course, burn the stories; some of them were very dangerous and could even land him in Azkaban if they were released.

But first he would show them to Ginny. He had worried about this decision at first but he wanted her to know what he was. He was somewhat nervous about it– terrible, terrible truths were in those writings. But he needed to be completely honest with her for this to work. In truth, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted Ginny to know these things about him. There were many things here that nobody alive knew and he needed someone to know, and he trusted her. Love was blind, Gellert had repeatedly cautioned him on this point– and really, who better an example than he?

But he had to do it. It was the right decision, and he knew he loved Ginny. He trusted her with all of her heart. It was bloody terrifying. That woman had his life in her hands and she could ruin him. This terror also fueled his love for her– it felt so good to belong to somebody and be able to trust somebody with all his heart

He didn't have to wait long before the Floo lit up Ginny walked out, wearing her usual teasing grin. He'd never live that time down.

"Hey, love," Harry began.

"Hi, Harry. You said you had something to show me? You sounded very eager… Are you sure that's all you wanted to do?" she asked with a saucy grin.

He sighed, "You'll be the death of me, woman. But no, I really do have something important to show you," his nervousness had increased tremendously now that he was facing her.

She saw his worry and frowned, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Ah, well, I decided to start writing. About my experiences. It's been very therapeutic, actually, and I wanted you to look at it. You know, if you want to. If you don't…" he began to ramble and she cut him off with a laugh.

"Harry, I'd love to. I'm honoured you trust me with this, really."

Harry smiled, his nervousness leaving him, "Alright, erm, I wrote a lot. It's up in my room on the desk."

She nodded and kissed him softly, reassuringly, before walking up the stairs. Harry considered following her but he decided to stick to the original plan and stay downstairs. With a lot of Firewhisky. He smiled as he called Kreacher– something in his heart told him everything would be alright. He'd released the past and he was giving it to Ginny. Giving himself to her.

* * *

Roughly two hours later he heard Ginny walking down the stairs and he stood nervously. He approached the stairs and saw her. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't. He didn't need to, though, as she suddenly launcher herself across the room and wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you so much, Harry," she told him and Harry knew that everything would be alright. Regardless of what he face in the future, he would face it with Ginny at his side and a full heart.

Harry was ready to live again.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, one chapter left. That'll be the epilogue, and I'm not sure how long it'll be, likely not all that long, but I wanted to do a little in-the-future ending. I had wanted to include that with this chapter but I haven't updated in a few days - due to a very busy (and very stressful!) schedule, I haven't been able to write. Writing this chapter did wonders for my stress, though, and I hope you all enjoy it.**

**We're in the endgame now! Thank you guys for reading. Epilogue should be up in an hour or two, though I make no promises.**


	9. Living

Harry Potter stood on his porch, watching the sun set. Radiant pink shone through the clouds. It was one of the most beautiful sunsets that Harry had witnessed in a long time, which was saying something as he had made it a tradition to sit outside with his wife and watch each and every night.

Having three children did make that difficult, but most nights they managed. Today had been a big day, though: he had finally released the book he had been writing. It had been a long three years of writing it even though he'd had the general idea he'd wanted for nearly twelve years before fully devoting himself to the task. Curse breaking was a sometimes time consuming task and he hadn't retired until Ginny had become pregnant with his first child.

He still liked to hear her described as Mrs. Potter. The novelty of it never wore off. He smiled down at his wife. They rarely spoke as they watched the sun set; words were never needed. They understood each other on an intrinsic level that Harry would never fully understand.

His wife had become an author just like him– after her accident with Quidditch, she hadn't known what to do but she saw the wonders that writing had done for him and emulated it. She had worked as a sports journalist for a while before writing her own book on the sports. It had grown to rival _Quidditch Through the Ages _in popularly, though she still liked to complain, very modestly, that it was only due to her last name.

The sun was nearly gone, now, but it left with the promise of another beautiful one tomorrow. It was the power of it, the strength of nature, that comforted Harry and gave him such joy in this tradition.

He heard the James laugh and Lily squeal in rage– she was a little spitfire, just like Ginny. Arthur had taken Harry aside when Ginny had first revealed she was pregnant with a baby girl. Harry still remembered the man's words: "_Harry, there is nothing more special in this world than a daughter. She will be your world. Congratulations."_ He hadn't fully appreciated this until he had held Lily in his arms. She had him wrapped around her finger before she could even speak.

The sun was gone, and the darkness was nearly as beautiful. He pulled Ginny closer and just held her, enjoying her warmth. He always would. His hands curled around her and he finally spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet night, "I 'spose we should go in now, eh? Sounds like James is up to his usual antics."

Ginny smiled at him, "Yeah, sounds like it. I love you, Harry."

He kissed her, marveling at how, even after all these years, it was still so full of passion and love, "I love you too, Mrs. Potter."

Her smile turned radiant as she strode to the door and pulled it open, going inside. He could distantly hear Ginny shouting at her children. Lily may have been a spitfire but Ginny far outshined her in that department. Not that she didn't love her children; Harry was floored by the love and devotion she gave him and their family. Ginny was a perfect mother and a perfect wife. She'd given him the family he'd needed, and he would never forget that.

Harry stood, looking down at the book still in his hands. He stared at it, knowing immediately it would go to Bill. Even after his retirement from curse breaking they had remained great friends and Harry occasionally helped him out. Harry's smile was one of complete and total peace. He had come to peace with himself, with his past, and now eagerly faced the future. He traced the lettering on the cover that made up the title: _Living.  
_

* * *

**A/N: I didn't expect the epilogue to be this short but, to tell you the truth, I love it. It really encompassed what the meaning of my story was meant to be, or so I hope. My only regret on this in retrospection is that I kind of abandoned the team. I made a whole team and then included them in one mission (the Delphi one). My only excuse for that is that Harry, even being a curse breaker, is still more of a lone-wolf when it comes to missions- we see how that ends up sometimes during the Shade chapter.**

**It's been an amazing road - my first story! - and I will always love it. I posted the first chapter of my Quidditch Harry story, but it's very very different from the one I posted and then deleted. I realized that I am really terrible at writing happy stories so I made it a bit more heavy and than more realistic. Chapter one of this one (_To Fly Again_) came out much better, in my opinion.**

**Seriously though, I'm indebted to everyone who has read this story and reviewed. It's been a fantastic journey, and while I know this story wasn't super long, it felt like forever. (I mean, it was like under two weeks, but it's felt like so much more).**

**Thank you all so much, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
**


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